


Warborn

by thereluctanthufflepuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereluctanthufflepuff/pseuds/thereluctanthufflepuff
Summary: When Teddy and Victoire break up, they thought they'd never speak to each other again. But when a mysterious illness affects Muggle-born witches and wizards, can Teddy and Victoire set aside their bitterness to save the wizarding world?





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Victoire Weasley considered herself a practical girl.

She usually wore her hair in a high ponytail. Her clothes weren't fancy or expensive. She spent most of her days buried in books, and she had picked a practical career: Healer. Today, she'd leave her childhood home to stay with her aunt and uncle while pursuing her Healer certification in London.

"Victoire! Ready, ma petite?" Her mother knocked on the door of Victoire's bedroom at Shell Cottage.

"Oui, maman," she said, crossing the room to open the door.

Her mother, beautiful and luminous as ever, stepped in. "Oh," Fleur Weasley whispered. "Oh—c'est vide. It's empty."

Victoire turned to look at her bedroom. The pale pink walls were bare. The places where she had stuck posters and photographs shone a little more vibrantly. She turned back to her mother and gave her a small smile.

"Maman, don't be sad! I'll be back loads to visit—and I'll be staying with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry for a little while so you can both come visit!" Victoire threw her arm around her mother's shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. Fleur nodded slightly, very evidently holding back tears.

"Hey, you two, are you ready to g-" said Bill Weasley, popping his gingery head in. He paused, assessing the situation. "Hey now… What's going on here?" He stepped in, too. Victoire couldn't help but smile at her father—his handsome face scarred from the Second Wizarding War, his red hair lined with silvery-gray, his brown eyes still full of mischief.

Fleur sniffed. "Our bébé is leaving us…for good this time!" she exclaimed to her husband. Bill's expression softened and he put his arm around her shoulders so Fleur was sandwiched between her husband and daughter.

"She's going to be just fine," Bill said gently, winking at his eldest daughter over his wife's head. "She's a Delacour, after all."

"Oh, all right!" Fleur said, wiping her eyes absently with one hand. "Let us leave tout de suite, oui?" She looked at her daughter, gave her a little squeeze on the shoulder. "We'll be waiting by the fireplace."

Her parents left. Victoire took one last glance around; her packed trunk had already been sent to London. She grabbed her purse, absentmindedly touched the half-moon charm at her neck and whispered, "Bye."

She turned and walked out the door.

* * *

"Well," Aunt Ginny grinned. "Now that that's over, how about a little help unpacking?"

Victoire smiled gratefully at her aunt. They had just said goodbye to her parents and siblings, Dominique and Louis. It was a very tearful goodbye. Fleur had made Ginny and Harry promise repeatedly to keep an eye on Victoire. Victoire was privately grateful that her aunt considered herself more a friend to Victoire than a parental figure, and all the better for it. Victoire was yearning for a taste of freedom from her parents' eyes.

"You really don't have to, Aunt Ginny, I can—" Ginny held up a hand.

"It's no problem, Vic. You're my first niece—what kind of aunt would I be if I didn't help you?"

Victoire followed Ginny up the soft carpeted stairs of their comfortable London home. Victoire looked at the framed photos that lined the stairwell, showcasing the years of Ginny and Harry's life together.

After they'd gotten married, Harry and Ginny had moved to London, into a tiny flat on Diagon Alley. Victoire remembered the flat well, with its mismatched furniture and fire escape from where Victoire had once almost taken a headlong tumble. After the Potters started doing well at work, and shortly after Ginny retired from professional Quidditch, they moved with their eldest son, James, to the white rowhouse on St. Dionis Road. Ginny became pregnant with Albus shortly after, and Lily came along not much later.

Victoire had spent many holidays at the Potter house, but now that the house was her home, it felt different. Foreign and strange. She hoped this wouldn't convey on her face as Ginny opened the door to Victoire's room and looked around.

"We've made up the bed for you," Ginny said, gesturing at the bed. It was covered in a quilt sprigged with blue and yellow flowers. "Now let's unpack that trunk."

Ginny waved her wand and Victoire's trunk popped open. Inside were neatly folded witches' robes, jeans, shirts and new, green robes to start her Mediwitch training at St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies. On the very top of the pile, however, was a framed photo of herself and—

Victoire dashed over and snatched the photo up. Ginny raised her eyebrows but said nothing. "Would you like to tell me where you'd like your things, dear?"

"Robes and dresses should be hung up. I'll do the rest," Victoire said, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. Ginny got to work arranging the robes and dresses in the closet.

Victoire always enjoyed watching her aunts and uncles do magic—everything seemed so effortless to them. The robes soared into the closet and neatly hung themselves on hangers. Ginny marched the dresses toward the closet like a general leading troops to war. Victoire, meanwhile, hastily waved her wand. The drawers to the dresser slammed open and shirts and trousers went flying haphazardly into them.

An hour later, Victoire looked around, impressed. Aunt Ginny had ended up doing most of the work, and her room looked more like home than ever. Her family photos were clustered on a small desk. The posters of her favorite Quidditch players, including one of Aunt Ginny, were plastered neatly on the wall.

Victoire sat down on the bed, stuffing the photo from her trunk under the mattress. Ginny came and sat down next to her. She put her hand gently on Victoire's. A light scent of flowers wafted toward Victoire, the familiar smell of Ginny.

"He'll be here for dinner tonight," she said kindly.

"Who?"

"Teddy, of course," Ginny said, giving Victoire's hand a little squeeze. "Are you going to be all right?"

Victoire's stomach turned but she didn't want to let her aunt know how much this news stunned her. She shrugged, hoping to seem nonchalant. "He broke up with me almost a year ago," she told her aunt quietly. "I'm over it."

Ginny was quiet for a moment, seeming to struggle to find something to say. "I'll give you some time to rest. We'll see you at dinner." She got up and left, closing the door behind her.

Sighing, Victoire flopped back onto the narrow bed and yanked the photo out from underneath the mattress. She gazed at it, wondering what she'd say to the boy in the photo when she saw him tonight. She closed her eyes, pressing the picture to her chest, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Teddy Lupin was late.

He had been working late at The Daily Prophet, where he was a reporter, and lost track of the time while attempting to write the introduction to a particularly complicated story. The only way he remembered that he was supposed to be at dinner was when his watch yelled at him, "Time to go, scruffy!"

Now he was walking quickly from The Daily Prophet's office to his godfather's house, wishing that he had simply Apparated instead. Teddy was hoping to clear his head with the walk. Writing often left him cloudy-headed, especially if he was struggling to come up with the words. _If only I could figure out how to say…_ He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out of his brain.

 _Doesn't matter,_ he said, approaching the scarlet door of the Potter house. He raised his hand, getting ready to knock, thought better of it and just opened the door.

What he saw made his jaw drop.

Or rather _who_ he saw. It was _her._ Victoire.

He could see down the foyer, into the hallway and in the kitchen a glimpse of silvery blonde hair and a familiar, lilting laugh. He stopped moving, staring at her as she took a stack of plates from Ginny and moved into the dining room. She looked astonishingly the _same:_ blonde, tan and freckly from the Cornwall sun. He wasn't sure why he thought she would look different.

 _Why didn't they tell me she'd be here?_ He panicked, groping for the doorknob, but the door had already announced his arrival.

"Edward Remus Lupin has arrived for dinner," the door sang loudly. He heard footsteps and then the familiar untidy head of his godfather emerged in the hallway.

"Teddy!" Harry Potter exclaimed. "Back again? Weren't you just here yesterday?" His green eyes sparkled mischievously, teasing Teddy. This was their usual greeting; Harry teased and Teddy teased back. However, today, Teddy looked at Harry with a blank expression. Harry quietly registered his godson's shocked expression.

"I know, Ted," he said in a low voice, clapping an arm on Teddy's shoulder. "But you'll have to talk sometimes. We're all family!"

Teddy recoiled. "She's not my…family. She's…" He stopped. What was she? Who was she to him?

Harry's expression clouded with confusion. "She's my niece. Ginny's niece. You're my godson. We want you both here."

Teddy turned, looked his godfather right in the eye and said, "I…can't." He grabbed the doorknob, opened the door and fled.

* * *

Victoire heard none of this. From the moment the door called, "Edward Remus Lupin has arrived for dinner," she stopped hearing anything. The blood pounded in her ears. Her heart was racing. She was focusing so hard on setting plates at the table that she didn't hear the door slam again, didn't hear the footsteps that came back into the dining room. She didn't hear her three cousins bounding down the stairs exclaiming, "Teddy!"

She looked up to see her Uncle Harry come back into the dining room and give her a sad shrug. She stared determinedly at the plate in her hand.

Her hearing suddenly seemed to return even louder than ever.

"Teddy!" she heard Lily exclaim as she ran into the dining room. "Teddy?" She looked around. "Where is he?"

Harry patted her shoulder as his two sons barged in, inquiring similarly. "He had to go, sweetheart," he said, looking into his daughter's green eyes. His eyes. "He couldn't stay. He had to work." Victoire watched in horror as Lily's eyes filled with confusion. She was, after all, the closest to Teddy.

"But…why?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide the mourning in her voice.

"My goodness, _what_ is happening in here?" Ginny called, coming into the dining room, a variety of bowls and platters hovering behind her, waiting patiently to be placed on the table. "James, are you torturing your sister again?"

"Mum! Why do you always think it's me?" James looked affronted.

 _Because it always is you_ , Victoire thought unkindly.

"Mum!" Lily rushed over to her mother. Harry was very pointedly avoiding Victoire's eyes. "Mum, Teddy left. He won't be here for dinner tonight because-"

"LILY," Harry warned. "Don't—"

Victoire felt a lump rise in her throat; she swallowed, but it sat resolutely where it was. Ginny glanced at her before looking at Harry, giving him a Very Significant Look and beginning to set their dinner dishes down.

"Lily. Come here right now," Harry said, indicating that she join him outside the dining room. Victoire stood awkwardly while James and Albus stared at her. Ginny motioned for everyone to sit down; they did as ordered, silent. Harry joined them moments later.

"Lily won't be joining us for dinner," he announced. Almost as if on cue, they heard Lily raging up the stairs.

"I'm sorry," Victoire whispered urgently. She looked up at her aunt and uncle, who looked surprised. "I didn't know it was a problem. I'm so sorry. I can leave—" She moved to stand up, but Ginny put a hand on her shoulder.

"Victoire, you are as welcome in our home as anyone," Ginny said. Victoire choked back tears. Again, she smiled gratefully at both her aunt and uncle, but inside a battle was raging.

 _You can't even have a dinner with me?_ She thought angrily at Teddy. _What did I ever do to you?_

And then a smaller voice in her head spoke up. _You know what you did._

* * *

After leaving his godfather's house and jogging several blocks away, Teddy remembered that he was hungry. His stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of Harry and Ginny's cooking: fresh salads, warm stews, breads & pastas.

Since the office of The Daily Prophet was near Diagon Alley, he stopped into The Leaky Cauldron. "Hello, Imelda," he said to the manager of the pub.

"Hullo, Teddy," she said to him kindly. "Back again?" At this, Teddy thought with a pang of his godfather, Harry, and their ongoing joke.

"Yes," he said. "Can I get a burger to go? Gotta get back to work."

"Coming right up," she said. "It'll be four Galleons." He paid her and sat down at the bar to wait.

His mind drifted back to Victoire. Her eyes had been crinkled in a smile. His stomach lurched as he thought back to their last time together.

With a twinge, he remembered that they had been in her bedroom at Shell Cottage. Her beautiful face had been wet with tears; his eyes burned from holding back his own tears.

"I'm leaving," he'd said to her back. She hadn't turned around when he left. Her hair had been down then, cascading down her back in silvery waves, the way he always liked it.

 _The things I said,_ he remembered, grimacing. _I wish I could-_

"Teddy?" Madam Imelda was holding a brown paper sack. Her voice cut through his reverie. He stood up, thanked her, took the sack and left.

The walk back to The Daily Prophet was short, and the weather was exceptionally pleasant as dusk started to seep into London. The front of the Prophet was enchanted to look like an old Muggle music shop full of useless old CDs and cassette tapes. Now that Muggles listened to all their music on their mobile phones, the storefront was a perfect cover for a bustling magical journalism enterprise. No one ever went in. He looked casually at the window, looked around to make sure no one was watching and placed his hand on the front window. Immediately, he was in the lobby of the Prophet.

Even after hours, The Daily Prophet's offices were extremely busy. The newspaper had adopted the flying memos from the Ministry of Magic and a brightly colored flock fluttered in through one of the fireplaces that lined one wall. The fireplaces were labeled according to their purpose. _Anonymous Tips_ , _Floo Network_ and _Ministry News_ were among them.

Teddy belonged to the _Lumos_ team. He worked with a team of six other investigative reporters, all of whom were older than Teddy. He had only been with the Prophet for two years, and while he contributed and collaborated with his colleagues, he had never taken the lead on a story. Taking the lead on a story would mean presenting an original idea-something he hadn't had in over a year.

He sat down at his desk, nodding at Susan Ames, the only one of his colleagues who still remained at her desk.

"Back so soon?" she questioned him. They all knew about his dinners with famous Harry Potter, The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived.

He shrugged. "Just ran out to get a bite. Got too much work to do."

Susan wasn't paying attention. She was looking with a furrowed brow at a flying memo that moments ago had been pestering her. Her mouth was moving rapidly, but she wasn't making any sound. Her eyes flashed up to the top of the memo and she began to read again, this time more slowly. Teddy watched her interestedly, unpacking his dinner.

"Whoa," she finally breathed a sigh and set down the memo. "What a load of bollocks."

"Wazzit?" he said through a mouthful of burger and fries.

"Something about people being checked into St. Mungo's complaining of headaches only to suddenly turn into werewolves at the hospital," she said offhandedly, beginning to gather her belongings.

Teddy choked, coughing and sputtering.

"Turning into…what now?" he said.

" _Werewolves,"_ she repeated. "As if there's such a thing as _new cases_ of lycanthropy now. There hasn't been a werewolf attack since, well, your godfather defeated You-Know-Who."

There was silence. _Did Susan know about his father?_ Teddy wondered.

"Anyway, good night, Lupin," Susan said, waving her hand as she left. "See you!"

Teddy waited until he couldn't hear her anymore. Then he stood up, swiped the memo from her desk and read it over. Words popped out at him… _incurable headaches…diseased with wolf's blood…punished for their treachery…werewolf army…it will happen._

Teddy gave it a once over, snorted and tossed the memo in a bin. _She's right,_ he thought savagely. _It is a load of bollocks._

He gulped down the remainder of his dinner, shrugged on his jacket and left the office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Teddy and Victoire break up, they thought they'd never speak to each other again. But when a mysterious illness affects Muggle-born witches and wizards, can Teddy and Victoire set aside their bitterness to save the wizarding world?

** Chapter Two **

Victoire's first day at St. Mungo's Teaching Hospital for Magical Maladies began with a boom. Literally.

Healer Longbottom was teaching them how to bandage and treat fireworks burns when the patient's pockets began to emit fireworks. Healer Longbottom shouted, "Take cover!" Victoire, her new classmates and the healer all ducked, raised their wands and a wavery shield appeared above the whole group. They waited patiently for the enchanted fireworks to go out before resuming the treatment for burns.

"Seems to deserve it, if you ask me," a tall boy next to her whispered in her direction. "The burns."

Victoire glanced over to see a tall, skinny boy—no, man—grinning at her. "I'm Avi," he said, sticking his hand out. "Avi Goldstein."

"Victoire Weasley," she said, shaking his hand.

"Weasley, eh? No red hair though?"

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, my dad's a Weasley. My mum's French and blonde," she said, omitting the fact that her mother was also part veela. Somehow that always seemed to change the dynamics of her relationships.

"Cool. My parents are both Muggles. Quite a shock for them when I didn't want to be a lawyer," Avi said as the group hurried to keep up with Healer Longbottom.

"Healer's a good career, though," she said. "They shouldn't be too disappointed."

"Yeah, says another Healer," he teased. "Next you're going to tell me that blondes have more fun." She laughed, self-consciously touching her sleek blonde ponytail.

Healer Longbottom called out, "It's lunchtime, class! Meet me in the lobby in one hour after you've eaten." The class dispersed. Victoire was surprised and pleased to find herself left behind-alone with Avi.

"Wanna go grab a bite?" he asked, grinning at her. She stared at him, really seeing him now. He had curly brown hair, big brown eyes and a kind smile. He was tall and gangly, like her Uncle Ron. He even had a small smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Victoire decided then that she would make friends with this awkward but friendly young man.

"Sure," she said. "Let's go." And so they went.

* * *

Victoire found herself charmed by the work she was doing at St. Mungo's. Every day, she and her classmates learned something new, and Victoire, always a talented student, seems to be exceeding her own expectations by leaps and bounds.

She spent the mornings with Healer Longbottom, seeing rare medical maladies or brewing healing potions in the lab, and the afternoons on rounds with a little Healer named Healer Burns, a wispy little witch with silver hair that she wore in dreadlocks. Healer Burns had been at St. Mungo's for over fifty years, and had seen a number of Victoire's own family members being born at the hospital.

In the evenings, Victoire would have dinner with her aunt and uncle. A sullen silence seemed to come from the Potter kids, and Victoire knew that it was resentment that Teddy hadn't come for dinner in nearly a month. Since she had arrived, Teddy Lupin hadn't shown hide nor blue hair at the Potter house. Victoire hadn't asked if any of them had seen him, and they hadn't offered the information.

* * *

A month after their first day, Victoire and Avi were returning from their daily lunch when they heard a siren go off inside the hospital.

"What's that?" Victoire called to Avi holding her hands over her ears. "Is there something wrong?"

Avi rolled his eyes. "No, that's just the 'Everything's okay' alarm—of _course_ something's wrong!"

They stared as a group of Healers began sprinting into the lift, punching the buttons. They could hear screams coming from an upper floor. Victoire felt a sudden panic. Avi seemed to have noticed her expression and put his hand on her elbow. She looked at him amid the mayhem. He mouthed, _It's ok._ Before she got the chance to respond, Healer Longbottom was hurrying their way.

Victoire looked around, surprised; her classmates had gathered around her in the din of the alarm.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Healer Longbottom said loudly, shouting over the alarm. "There is no need to worry. Please follow me." And she led them away from the lifts where the Healers had just run up.

Victoire lingered, then followed the rest of the class.

* * *

"So this guy… Is he cute?"

Victoire blushed. "Bianca!" she said, staring at the fire where her best friend's head sat. "He's just a classmate."

"Sounds cute to me," Bianca said, winking. "Tell me more about him."

"There's nothing to tell," she said, tilting her head. Bianca's eyes narrowed. "Okay! He's cute!"

"Avi Goldstein, you said? Anthony Goldstein's son?"

Victoire shrugged. "No, he's Muggle-born."

"Vic! He asked you to lunch on your first day together! What's he like? Do you like him?" Bianca paused, studying Victoire's face. Her best friend had always been beautiful, but in the last year, she'd become more serious and her face reflected it. Gone was the playful glint in her blue eyes, replaced by a gravity that made her seem much older than she was.

"He's nice," Victoire muttered. "Anyway, what's going on with you? How's training camp?"

"Pfft," Bianca sputtered. "It's the usual. Wood's working us all half to death. Y'know, when he said he was retiring from playing, I didn't know he'd become our bloody _coach_." Bianca played professional Quidditch for Puddlemere United; she was a Chaser, quick and with an aim that rivaled Ginny Weasley's.

"Hey, B, I think I hear my aunt," Victoire said, leaning in to say goodbye to her friend.

Bianca nodded. "I'll send you tickets for the first game," she said. "And I'll be in London in a few weeks! I'll owl you."

"Love you," Victoire said. Bianca blew her a kiss and popped her head out of the fire.

"Vic?" said a small voice. Victoire turned around to see James peeking his head into the drawing room.

"Hi, James," she said, smiling widely at him. Of the three Potter kids, Victoire loved James the best, though she never told anyone this. James was the closest in age to her, but he was also almost exactly like her, too. She and James had both been gregarious, popular students during their overlapping time at school, but more than that, James had been the biggest fan of Victoire and Teddy's relationship.

"How's St. Mungo's?" James flopped down in a squashy armchair, clearly very bored with his summer. She had to stifle a laugh. Even though the age difference between she and James wasn't much-she was only four years older-she inexplicably remembered him as a little boy. But this James was sixteen years old, slight and tall like his father, with freckles inherited from his mother and those emerald green eyes

Victoire raised her eyebrows. "It's fine," she said. "I'm learning a lot! Are you excited to go back for your last year at Hogwarts?"

"What happened with you and Teddy?" James blurted out. It was clear he had been wanting to have this conversation with her for weeks. "You were fine last year and then suddenly you weren't even talking!" Victoire stared at him. Then, she spoke, carefully.

"We broke up."

"But— _why."_ It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway.

"Sometimes people grow apart," she explained to him, privately wondering if that's why her first and only true romantic relationship had ended so abruptly.

The truth was that Victoire was just as mystified by why Teddy had ended their relationship. The events leading up to their breakup didn't _seem_ to indicate a rupture in their little universe, but things had ended nonetheless.

"We thought you'd get married," James said glumly. "And then Teddy could be our real family."

Victoire, careful not to betray any emotion, spoke in a low voice, "He already _is_ your real family."

"You _know_ what I mean."

Victoire stood up, brushing soot from the fireplace from her jeans. "I know it's disappointing," she said, trying to keep her voice level. She didn't want to say anything bad about Teddy to the Potters—he was essentially a sixth member of their family. "Maybe you can ask Teddy about it."

James shrugged. "He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Really?" She hated herself for letting curiosity creep into her voice. "You talked to him about it?"

"I heard Mum and Dad mention it to him," James said, shrugging his slender shoulders, fidgeting with the hem of his thin Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt. "He sort of—brushed them off."

Victoire couldn't help but feel disappointed by the conclusion of this conversation. The combination of her anger and sadness had filled her with an insatiable thirst for more news about Teddy. In the year since their breakup, she found herself combing The Daily Prophet to see if Teddy had written anything. She found him in a photo in a tabloid with the Potters at a Quidditch game. When she was with Hogwarts friends, when his name came up, she went mysteriously silent, hoping to hear more. It didn't help that since the breakup, people didn't mention Teddy around Victoire, and she felt deprived of news about him.

"Maybe he'll talk to _you_ ," Victoire said, smiling at James as she flopped down on the chair next to him. "You know how he'll tell you everything."

James shook his head. "I just wish—"

Victoire waited, looking at James as he continued to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"—nothing." James swung his legs around, now sitting normally in the chair. "I'm glad you're here, though." And he gave Victoire a smile that, after their sullen dinners of the last few weeks, made her feel welcome in their home at last.

* * *

When Teddy arrived at work a month after he'd fled the Potters', a sunny yellow memo was flittering above his desk. He swallowed hard; he knew he'd have to answer for his actions eventually. He grasped the memo and opened it. Written in careful lettering, he read:

_Mr. Lupin,_

_Please come by my office to see me at lunchtime._

_Sincerely,_

_Ginevra Weasley Potter_

_Editor_

_Sports Section_

_The Daily Prophet_

He sighed. Ginny was an eminently fair-minded person; he knew she would hear him out, but she would expect a thorough explanation. He'd have to explain why-but he couldn't do that. Not yet.

As the clock struck noon, Teddy's watch reminded him of his appointment. "Time to meet your fate, buddy," the watch said in an annoying sing-song voice. Teddy stood up and took the five minute walk to Ginny's office at a leisurely pace. When he got to her office, he was surprised to see that her door was open. As the Sports Editor, she was frequently in private meetings or writing.

He raised his hand and knocked three times on the doorframe.

Ginny looked up and gave him a grim smile. "Come in, Teddy," she said. "Close the door behind you."

_Uh oh._

"Edward Remus Lupin. _What_ could you possibly be doing that is more important than having dinner with your godfather for a month?" Ginny exclaimed the moment Teddy sat down. "We've been waiting to hear from you! You haven't replied to any of the owls we've sent. You know I try to be very professional with you at work, Teddy, but this is simply unacceptable. I hope you've been on a very urgent deadline or have some kind of rare sickness because, frankly, anything else is unsatisfactory." She steepled her fingers, the gold wedding band glinting against the light, and stared at Teddy over the tips of her fingers.

"Ginny…" he trailed off. He had nothing, so he propped his elbows on his knees and looked back at Ginny, never before appreciating how indulgent she usually was with him until this moment when she wasn't showing him any of that warmth.

"Well?" She looked expectant, her eyes narrowed.

"Well… _she_ was there," he said, finally finding his voice.

"So what?" Ginny snapped. " _She_ is my niece. My _first_ niece. My parents' first grandchild. She is entitled to be there, _as are you._ You both are adults now; whatever happened between you, can't you let bygones be bygones?"

Teddy muttered something incomprehensible.

"What?" Ginny snapped.

"I said, we don't have anything to talk about anymore!" he replied, pushing back into the chair. He wasn't wrong; everything he and Victoire had had in common, their childhoods, their love for travelling—it was all gone.

Ginny's expression softened. "Teddy," she said gently, leaning forward over her cluttered desk, "I know you've been through a lot. I know it hurts to grow up without your parents." He flinched. "But you know who knows about that?"

"Harry," Teddy muttered. Ginny nodded.

"Yes. Harry. Now, please don't do that again. Our family _needs_ you." She paused. "Harry needs you."

He stared at her. Her face was inscrutable.

"See you next Monday," Ginny said, and with a wave of her wand, the door opened and he knew he was dismissed.

* * *

The next few weeks flew by for Victoire. She was learning more every day, and realizing that she enjoyed honing her medical skills. No sirens had gone off since the first day.

She had started taking evening shifts at the hospital in hopes that she'd see some rare and interesting cases of medical magic. She also hoped that her shifts would ensure that she avoided another dinner party with He Who Must Not Be Named (no, not _him!)_ at Harry and Ginny's house.

One dull evening, Victoire was sitting in the emergency wing of the hospital. She had been there long enough that Healer Longbottom had allowed her to help some of the more experienced Healers with simple bits of magic.

She was flipping through a medical textbook during that particularly quiet evening in the hospital when there was a sudden bang. She looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. He had blasted the door open with his wand—the door hung from its hinges eerily—and was standing in the doorway.

She looked around. All the Healers were gone or attending to other patients. She stood up and strode over to the man.

"Um, excuse me? Sir?" He seemed not to hear her. "Sir? Sir?"

His eyes turned to her, and she was startled to see that they looked blank, devoid of emotion.

"Help—me," he whispered. "My head. My head. It won't stop. I can still hear it. My head—it _hurts_." And then he fainted.

"So…I don't understand. He came to St. Mungo's for a headache?" Avi slurped a soda over lunch the next day. "Bit of an overreaction."

"I don't understand it either," Victoire said, dipping a French fry in ketchup. "He fainted, and when we revived him, he kept saying his head hurt."

"And you tried all the charms, right? Pain Begone Charm? Nerve Receptor Charm?"

"No, I just let him sit there and suffer," Victoire said sarcastically. "Of _course_ I tried all the Charms. Nothing worked. In the end, they gave him a Draught of Living Death while they figure out what was wrong with him."

"Poor bloke," Avi said absentmindedly. "Anyway, hey—I wanted to ask you something."

"Is it whether I tried to give him Muggle medicine because if it is, I will hex you," Victoire chuckled.

"No it's not that," Avi replied. "Would you want to, um, go to dinner with me?"

Victoire sat in a stunned silence for a moment. Avi looked embarrassed. "It's ok, forget I said anything. I just thought—we've been spending so much time together—I think you're great. We've been having lunch every day-" He gestured broadly, looking abashed.

"Yes." She had found her voice. "Yes, Avi, I'd love to go to dinner with you."

He blushed, then grasped her hand briefly. She couldn't help but think of Teddy.

* * *

"Oh, Vic, you look lovely!" Ginny exclaimed as she stood in the doorway of Victoire's bedroom at the Potters.

Victoire turned around, looking self-consciously at her pale blue dress and sandals. "You think so?" she asked despairingly. It felt like an eternity since she had been on a date, and she felt completely unprepared. She found a pale blue sundress on sale at a Muggle shop near the hospital. It brought out the blue in her eyes. She paired it with a pair of tan wedge sandals.

"Oh, yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "Harry, come here—doesn't Victoire look lovely for her date tonight?" Harry poked his head in.

"Yes, dear?" he looked at Ginny inquiringly.

"Victoire, dear," Ginny said. "Doesn't she look nice?"

Harry glanced at Victoire and smiled. "Yes," he nodded. "She does. Who are you going out with?"

She hesitated. Harry was a big supporter of Teddy and Victoire's relationship. Would he be all right with this? "A…friend from the hospital. Avi."

They both nodded sagely. "Well, we're not your parents but…just…be safe," Ginny stammered. Harry turned bright red just as the doorbell rang. Victoire snatched up her purse, gave her aunt a quick kiss on the cheek and ran down the stairs. She opened the door.

Avi stood there in a smart, pressed white shirt and dark jeans. "Hi," he said nervously.

"Hi," she said, smiling widely and hoping to ease his nerves. "Come in, I want you to meet my aunt and uncle."

"Hello, Avi," Ginny said kindly, waving at him. Harry approached him, holding out his hand.

"Hello, Avi! Nice to meet you!"

Avi looked shell-shocked. Sometimes Victoire forgot that her uncle was The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, The Defeater of the Dark Lord, etc. etc. She suppressed a knowing smile as she watched Harry enjoy another awkward encounter with a fan.

Avi collected himself. "Hello, sir, Mr. Potter, sir, so good to meet you, sir. I've heard so much about you from…well, from everyone, you know, but also from Victoire. She tells me all about you…both," His eyes flicked to Ginny. "Mrs. Potter! So good to meet you as well." Victoire grabbed his hand.

"Let's go," she said, smiling at her date. He nodded, nodded at the Potters and they left. The moment the door closed, he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"I didn't think they'd be there!" he cried.

She raised her eyebrows. "It's their house," she said.

"I mean—I know, but—" And it was then that he seemed to _notice_ her. Her hair was up in an elegant knot atop her head. Tiny blue straps rested on her tanned, freckly shoulders, and her skin seemed to emanate a warm light. "You look _nice_ ," he said to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She blushed.

"Thanks," she said, leading him down the front steps. "You're not so bad yourself." It was true. She usually saw him in his St. Mungo's scrubs; the white shirt made him look impossibly tan and he seemed relaxed in a way she'd never seen him before, his long limbs moving with an easy grace.

"Well, er, I have reservations at this Muggle restaurant," he said nervously. "It's just a short walk from the hospital. Shall we walk?"

They started walking to the restaurant. Victoire felt the warmth of the evening seep into her skin, the setting sun filling the streets with a brilliant orange light. They meandered together as a thin sliver of moon appeared in the sky, chatting and laughing. Victoire glanced over at him as he told her a story about playing Muggle sports when he was young, and noticed, for the first time ever, how _handsome_ he was. His eyes lit up talking about his family; his slender hands moved animatedly; his voice soothed her. She suddenly grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers. He paused in surprise, but then tightened his grip while continuing to tell his story.

When they got to the restaurant, they ordered some drinks and sat down.

"Tell me about your family," Avi said, sipping his beer. Victoire felt taken aback; she'd never had to tell anyone she'd dated about her family before. The only other person she'd truly dated already knew her family—everything about them.

"Well, uh, my dad's a Curse Breaker for Gringotts," she started. "And my mum is very skilled at magic, but she stayed home to take care of us. She was in the Triwizard Tournament in 1994, and she got Medals of Bravery from the Ministry for her part in the Second Wizarding War."

"Us?"

"Oh! Yes!" Of course. He didn't know about her siblings. "I'm the oldest in my family. I have two siblings: a sister, Dominique, and a brother, Louis."

"What are they like?"

"Dom is…fun. She's funny and very clever. She's always keeping me on my toes. Louis is sweet. He's my mother's pet, but he's very gentle. He likes animals and is going to Hogwarts this fall!"

"So you went to Hogwarts?" he asked.

Another thing he didn't know about her. "Yes! Where did you go to school?"

"Well, I went to Ilvermorny in America," he said. "Have you ever been?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I went on a tour of all the American national parks just last year!" His face lit up.

"Oh, really? My family used to go camping at Yosemite every summer! Who did you go with?"

She faltered. "Oh, er, a friend," she finished lamely. She couldn't tell him she'd gone with an ex-boyfriend. Not yet, anyway.

They spent the rest of the date eating, drinking and chatting animatedly about their travels. Victoire felt almost like her old self again after a few glasses of wine, and when they walked to a nearby park to hear some live music, she turned to Avi and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm having a lot of fun with you," she said. "I want you to know that."

He looked surprised, then pleased and his face broke out into a handsome grin. "I'm having a lot of fun with you, too," he said, gently taking her hand with his and rubbing the back of it with his thumb. He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her cheek, his mouth landing clumsily on the edge of her lips.

"Avi—"

He pulled away, looking embarrassed and confused.

"I really like you—" she stuttered, "But I haven't kissed anyone _important_ since my last relationship."

"Oh," he said, smiling kindly. "Am I important?"

She blushed. "Well, of course," she said teasingly. "Who would copy my papers if you were gone?"

He smiled. "I know what you mean," he replied. "And I understand. We'll take things…slow."

A wave of relief washed over her. "Let's sit to hear the concert?" she asked him, gently taking his hand and leading him to the rows of chairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Teddy and Victoire break up, they thought they'd never speak to each other again. But when a mysterious illness affects Muggle-born witches and wizards, can Teddy and Victoire set aside their bitterness to save the wizarding world?

**Chapter Three**

* * *

 

_When I was water, you poured me out over the dirt. -Kaveh Akbar_

* * *

Teddy's regular dinners with the Potters started when he was very young, since before he could remember. His grandmother and godfather would good-naturedly bicker about who got to see Teddy more, as if time with Teddy were a competition they were both determined to win.

As he got older and started attending school at Hogwarts, Teddy would visit the Potters for a few holidays through the year. After his grandmother passed away, during his final year at Hogwarts, he began spending all his holidays with Harry, Ginny and their family. When he moved to London after graduation, he came over four or five times a week, usually without any preamble. He knew he was always welcome at the Potters, and Harry and Ginny had never asked him to warn them before he came over for food and drink. Lately, though, his visits had become less frequent.

Since his conversation with Ginny at The Daily Prophet, he would owl before coming, ring the doorbell and never stayed over too late. Ginny and Harry privately discussed his newfound awareness for family boundaries and both agreed that he was definitely avoiding Victoire.

Tonight, however, Ginny and Harry had shooed their kids away and now were pouring little glasses of firewhiskey for themselves and Teddy.

"Here's to my godson! Here's to my wife!" Harry toasted with every drink, his face getting more and more flushed. Harry's face was still youthful, but was far more scarred and lined with wrinkles than Teddy's earliest memories of him. Ginny smiled as they all debated Quidditch and whether Puddlemere United could win the championship. She wished, for the briefest moment, that Victoire was there to be with Teddy instead of being out on her date. He seemed lonely lately, staying late at work most nights and going back to his empty flat.

"Victoire Gabrielle Weasley has arrived home," the door suddenly sang. "And she's brought Avi Benjamin Goldstein with her!" Teddy, who was slouched over nursing his firewhisky, sat up with a sudden swift motion, feeling the effect of his drink more clearly now.

He could hear Victoire talking in a hushed voice to someone, and suddenly she appeared in the doorway of the dining room.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, a smile starting on her lips. Then, she slowly realized who it was she was looking at. "Oh—hi." Her smile dropped. Behind her, Teddy could see a young-ish looking man standing patiently behind her, a cheerful expression on his face. Teddy stared at Victoire. She stared back.

A clearing of the throat brought them back to their current uncomfortable situation. "Hey," said the young man, striding over to Teddy and extending his hand out for a handshake. "I'm Avi."

"Teddy Lupin," Teddy said in response, standing up and grasping Avi's hand. Avi had a strong, confident handshake, but Teddy was pleased to note that he was taller than Avi.

"Hey, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter," Avi said, waving over Teddy's shoulder. They smiled.

"Join us for a drink!" Harry said loudly, drunkenly trying to break the tension.

"Oh—right—yes!" Ginny said, rising to get more glasses for their new guests.

"Actually, Avi was just coming in to say hi. He has to leave," Victoire said, jerking her head toward the front door. Avi looked confused for a brief moment, then recovered and resumed his good-natured smile.

"Yes, yes, of course," Harry said. "Another time, then." He raised his glass toward Avi.

Victoire shot a glance of deep loathing at Teddy, grabbed Avi's elbow and steered him toward the door.

Teddy turned to face his aunt and uncle. "I'm leaving, too," he said. He hugged Harry goodbye, gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek and walked toward the door. Victoire was just closing the door when she saw him approach. She looked tan, her blue eyes shining in her very freckly face and her hair almost white from the sun. She looked unhappy to have found herself in Teddy's company yet again.

"Hey," he said, standing a few feet in front of her. Her back was pressed against the door, as if she were hoping it would swallow her up at this very moment.

"Hey," she replied, fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

"How was…" he gestured toward the door. "…that?"

" _That_ was fine, thanks," she said tersely, still fidgeting. He couldn't decide if she wanted to stay or flee. There was a terrifying sense of possibility if he stayed, and something was keeping him rooted to the spot. He could feel his palms start to sweat.

"He seems…"

" _Don't_ talk about him," she said heatedly. "It's not your business." She stormed past him, catching him in the arm with her shoulder.

"Vic!" he called out behind her. But she didn't turn around.

He grabbed his jacket and left.

* * *

Victoire's heart was beating _hard_.

After the joyful evening she'd spent with Avi and his adorable freckles, coming home to find her ex boyfriend who had broken her heart sitting casually having drinks with her family while her date stood awkwardly behind her was not what she had planned. She'd invited Avi in for a drink; she hadn't expected Teddy to be there.

 _Poor Avi_ , she thought, sighing as she climbed into her pajamas and lay down, closing her eyes. _I'll make it up to him on Monday_.

Then she was dreaming.

_She was standing still in the Tube station. People were rushing around her, but somehow they couldn't touch her. They all had brightly colored hair and ragged clothes. She felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down. A small boy with brightly colored turquoise hair was standing there, staring up at her with big brown eyes._

" _Can you help me find my mum and dad?" he said, his voice sounding eerily far away even though he was right in front of her._

" _Where did you last see them?" she asked the boy, suddenly feeling terrified of the answer._

" _I've never seen them," he said. "Can you help me?" She looked up to find the Tube station gone. She was standing in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The enchanted ceiling twinkled bright stars and she could hear the ocean._

" _There they are!" said the boy, starting to run. Victoire peered to where he was running and saw two bundled shapes on the ground. Her stomach dropped._

" _Wait! No!" she sprinted after the blue-haired boy, grabbed him by both his shoulders and clutched him to her body. "You can't go there. You can't see them."_

_He started to scream, tears streaming down his face, his little fists pounding on her shoulders as she clung to him. "Let me go! I hate you! I hate you! I don't love you anymore!"_

* * *

On Monday, Victoire resolved to apologize to Avi as she walked to St. Mungo's.

She didn't have to. The moment she came into the hospital, she saw him chatting with the witches at the front desk. Almost as if he sensed her presence, he turned and smiled widely at her. She walked over to him, apprehensive.

"Hi," she said, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Hi," he said, smiling his cheerful smile at her.

"I'm sorry about Friday," she blurted out.

He looked puzzled. "Why are you sorry? I had a great time. I was just going to ask you out again."

"Well, when you took me home—it was just—weird."

"Ah, that. I think I know what happened, and you don't need to explain," he said, bracingly, holding a hand up at her protestations. "Now, I need to get to my rotation on the fourth floor. Where are you today?"

Victoire was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "I'm here," she gestured, pointing toward the emergency room. He nodded, gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and made for the list.

"Miss Weasley!" called out Healer Longbottom. "You know where to go, I trust?" She nodded, heading to the emergency room. She was not prepared for what she saw when she arrived there.

Healers were dashing this way and that. Every single bed was filled with a witch or wizard crying for aid, holding their heads in their hands, their cries becoming a fever pitch as Healers shouted cures with their wands. Victoire looked around in horror.

"What's happened?" she cried. Visions of bombs exploding filled her head, but all these patients looked quite unharmed, despite their moans that were beginning to sound like some eerie harmony.

"Miss Weasley!" cried Healer Burns. "Please attend to the patient in bed eighteen."

Victoire rushed over to the bed. A dark-haired woman with big, brown eyes was cradling her head in her hands, her whole body trembling. Victoire Summoned her charts over to her and gave them a glance: the same symptoms as the patient from two weeks ago.

"Mrs. Garrido?" she said, touching the woman gently on the shoulder. Mrs. Garrido flinched, then looked up, her eyes red, her face crumpled in pain.

"Help me," she whispered. "It won't stop."

"Mrs. Garrido, what happened? When did you start experiencing these symptoms?"

"This morning. This morning." She rocked back and forth, clutching her head. "They did it to me. I'm sure of it. They did it."

Victoire's breath caught in her throate. "Who did it, Mrs. Garrido? _Who_?"

She looked up, fearful. "Greyback." She fainted then, her arms and legs twitching violently as she slumped down in the bed.

Victoire's stomach churned; the blood pounded in her ears. She looked at Mrs. Garrido's shaking frame and carefully began checking for a bite, lifting up her blouse, examining her arms and legs. She couldn't find a single mark on the woman's skin.

After about ten minutes, it was clear that Mrs. Garrido hadn't been bitten. "Healer Burns!" Victoire called, running towards the older woman. "Healer Burns—Mrs. Garrido says…someone did this to her."

Healer Burns was a short, plump woman with a kind face and wispy white hair. She reminded Victoire of her grandmother: caring, kind and wise. She gave Victoire an appraising look.

"Who did she say did this?"

Victoire held her hands out toward the older woman, her palms up. "She said it was…Greyback."

Healer Burns recoiled slightly.

"Are you _certain_ she said Greyback?"

"That's what it sounded like."

"Miss Weasley," Healer Burns said after a very pregnant pause. "Please give Mrs. Garrido some Draught of the Living Dead, and take her to the second floor. Then, owl her husband. He needs to know she'll be here for a while."

Victoire made to leave but felt Healer Burns hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Healer?" Victoire inquired.

"Miss Weasley. I know you know who Greyback is," she said, her gray eyes boring into Victoire's own blue ones. "Don't be afraid." Her eyes were intense, focused and there was a little flicker of something—what, exactly?—behind them.

Victoire ran from the emergency room, up to the lift, punched the number five and proceeded to get some relief for her patient.

* * *

After twelve hours of seeing a seemingly endless stream of sickly patients, Victoire and the rest of the Healers in the emergency room were able to get their patients to sleep, albeit fitfully. She had transferred ten more patients to the second floor. Mrs. Garrido slept in a hospital bed, her husband's bowed head resting on her hand.

He had arrived, panicked by Victoire's owl.

"I just left Diagon Alley," he said urgently. "What's going on? Is she ok? Can I see her?"

As Victoire explained, his face paled more and more until she felt he couldn't get any paler.

"When can you wake her up?" he asked when Victoire led him to her bed. He tenderly cradled her hand in his own. Victoire's heart skipped a beat and she had to fight back a lump in her throat as she explained.

"We don't want her in any more pain, but we can't seem to make any of the usual charms work," she said gently. "Healer Burns and the other Healers will work to help alleviate her pain."

He sighed, and looked around. "I need to owl home," he said. "Tell our kids."

She nodded. "I'll get you an owl straight away & parchment. Do you want to owl Mrs. Garrido's family?"

He shook his head. "She's Muggle born; they don't understand owl post. I'll call them on the telephone."

Victoire nodded and closed the curtains around Mrs. Garrido's bed, giving Mr. Garrido a little privacy. Only when she was on the lift did she allow herself to lean against the wall and feel her exhaustion. Her hair was escaping the knot she'd put in that morning, and silvery tendrils framed her face. There were bluish shadows under her eyes, and her limbs ached from the lack of rest.

Leaving the lift, she caught a glimpse of Avi talking to what looked like was a patient's family. _I'll find him later,_ she thought, walking to the Owlery.

It was after she had delivered the owl with its message that she actually felt her exhaustion.

Leaning against a wall in the hospital owlery, she closed her eyes, thinking of Mrs. Garrido's whisper. _Greyback_. The name sent a chill down Victoire's spine.

She knew Greyback's name well. He was the one who, a year before the Battle of Hogwarts, had mauled her young, whole, handsome father. He was the one who, she thought with a pang, had bitten Remus Lupin, condemned to a life of isolation and stigma. Thinking about Remus Lupin, a man she had never met but felt she knew acutely, made her heart race. Both her life and Teddy's, touched by Greyback's violence. She wondered if this is why she and Teddy had seemed so connected, almost since her birth.

She remembered the first time that she learned that Teddy went to St. Mungo's annually for a check up in case he had inherited his father's lycanthropy. They tested his blood, his hair, his magical abilities for hours at a time. When he was done, Harry would take him and Teddy grandmother, Andromeda, to Diagon Alley where Teddy could pick out a toy and have an ice cream. Victoire had joined with her father on one of these trips.

"Daddy, I want a toy!" she had demanded, pouting while her father watched with amusement in his eyes.

"And you'll get one," Bill Weasley had said, picking her up in his arms.

"Teddy _always_ gets a toy," she whined.

"Teddy went to St. Mungo's all day, so he gets a toy," Bill explained, gently pushing Victoire's baby fine hair away from her face.

"Is he sick?"

"No." And he wouldn't explain any further. He bought her a Quidditch figurine-of Aunt Ginny.

Victoire still reddened in shame from this memory. Her early life had been one filled with tantrums and ire at any perceived slight against her. When she had tried to explain this to Teddy, he shrugged. "You were a kid," he said, taking her hand. "I was jealous of you, too. Your had parents, siblings, cousins. I wanted a big family like yours."

"You had us, too," she had insisted, squeezing his hand.

She was her parents' first daughter, her grandparents' first grandchild, and as such she had been spoiled. Her entire family, all weary from the war, was filled with a sort of pure joy when Victoire had been born. Here was someone that hadn't known The Dark Lord, hadn't known the suffering that he had caused, and as such, they had fulfilled her every desire. Victoire hadn't realized it at the time, but being one of the warborn had its perks.

Every Christmas for a long while, she received gifts from not only her parents and grandparents, but her aunts and uncles on all sides. When she started at Hogwarts, the whole family had come, a sea of vibrant hair colors come to see her off at King's Cross. When she took summer classes in Healing Arts at Beauxbatons Academy in France, Aunt Gabrielle took her shopping in the finest shops in Paris. Whatever she wanted, she got by virtue of her birth order.

 _When I wanted Teddy,_ she thought bitterly, _I got him, too._

_But not anymore._

She pushed herself off the wall and made her way down to the emergency wing. Healer Burns was dozing off in a chair.

"Um…" Victoire whispered softly.

Healer Burns awoke with a start. "Oh-Miss Weasley," she said, standing up and straightening her green robes. "Please, go home."

"Are you sure, Healer?" Victoire whispered, looking around. Just a few beds were filled.

"Yes." Victoire nodded and made to leave. "And Miss Weasley? Good job today."

Victoire walked out into the dark streets, lit only by the rapidly setting sun.

* * *

Arriving back at the Potters', she noted the gray jacket that hung by the door.

 _Why are you always here?_ She thought to herself, then immediately regretted it. She knew why. She heard light laughter from the sitting room. She wanted to ignore everyone and go to bed, but she knew she would have to pass the doorway to get to her bedroom. She couldn't very well ignore her family tonight.

Standing in the doorway, she saw something that made her chest ache. Teddy, blue-haired, tall and broad, sitting on the ground with Lily Potter, playing a very serious game of chess. Lily Luna Potter, the youngest of the Potter children, had always been fondest of Teddy. Harry and Ginny were watching absentmindedly, their fingers interlaced in each others. James and Albus were nowhere to be seen.

Victoire unintentionally cleared her throat. Everyone paused, looking up at her. Teddy's knight paused, staring at her, too.

"Hi," she said, steeling herself for this confrontation.

"Hi, Vic," Ginny said. "I saved you a plate for dinner! It's in the kitchen."

"Thanks," she said. "Hey, Ted." It was as if a record had scratched. He had the beginnings of a smile on the corners of his mouth. _His mouth_ , she thought, feeling a flush creep up her neck.

"Hey," he replied. "Lils, hang on a sec-" And he stood up, walking to the doorway. Lily protested, and was immediately shushed by her mother.

"Time for bed, Lily," Ginny said in a singsong voice.

"But Mum!" Lily objected. Ginny shook her head, flashed her daughter a very dangerous look and steered her toward the stairs and up towards her bedroom. Harry grabbed a newspaper and pretended to be very busy.

Victoire stepped back into the hallway with Teddy. This was the closest they'd been to each other in nearly a year, if you didn't count when she bumped into him last week. He stared down at her. She stared down at her feet.

"Teddy-"

"Victoire-" They both interrupted each other, grinned and then let out a testy laugh.

"Will you-" she gestured toward the kitchen.

"Yes, of course." They walked there together, Victoire's heart hammering against her ribcage.

* * *

Teddy was sitting nervously in front of his ex girlfriend, hoping with every passing moment that she didn't notice how nervous he was.

Watching her pick at her dinner while maintaining a courteous silence between them, he couldn't help but notice how much she'd changed and also how little she'd changed.

She had always been, since she was young, very beautiful. Her Veela blonde hair, electric blue eyes and freckles across her nose and cheeks gave the impression of looking into a very bright light. Teddy had long ago conceded that sometimes it was hard to look at her for too long, though he had probably looked at her longer than most.

She'd changed, too, since their breakup a year ago. Her eyes, which had always been piercing, had lost some of their sharpness. They seemed to notice more, lingering on places and people, and, he noticed with a twinge, they seemed sad. Her hair, once always worn down around her shoulders, was up in a loose knot atop her head. Her face was free of makeup; blue shadows under her eyes gave the impression that she hadn't slept in weeks. He spied a small tattoo on her right wrist, though he wasn't able to tell of what. Her ears were pierced now; tiny blue gems glinted from them.

"So…" she said, breaking the silence. "Um. What's up?"

His mind went blank. _I miss you_ , he wanted to say.

"Oh, just, uh-working," he said lamely. "At the Prophet. I write and research for _Lumos._ "

She nodded. "Right. Aunt Ginny mentioned that."

He had never remembered feeling awkward around her. Their childhood was filled with fond memories of playing Quidditch, eating Molly Weasley's nourishing food, swimming in the sea at Shell Cottage, curled up in sleeping bags on different floors in different Weasley abodes, hours studying together in the Hufflepuff Common Room and spending each and every Christmas together with their big, loud, rambunctious family. Their conversations had always been filled with peals of laughter, jokes, the occasional fight, and eventually, after they'd started dating, words of love and affirmation, whispers in the dark and some tears. They had been, for a long time, the other's best friend.

But never awkwardness.

She looked up at him, taking a bite out of a hunk of bread. "So...you like it? Working at _Lumos?"_

He nodded. "Yeah. We exposed that big elf trafficking story last year, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I read that. Aunt Hermione was quoted in it. You wrote it?"

"We usually write and research things together," he explained. "Everyone does interviews, gathers documents, writes pieces of it."

"Right," she said, tearing off another hunk of bread and chewing it thoughtfully. "And people can send you tips, right? That's how you got wind of that elf trafficking story?"

"Yeah," he nodded, suddenly realizing that she had never been this interested in his work before _._ His ego inflated. "We get tons of tips daily. We just have to comb through and see which ones are worth writing about."

"So...say I have a tip," she said, her eyes suddenly showing some of that lost fierceness. "I could just send it to you directly?"

"Vic." He paused, thinking of the best way to say what he was going to say. "I can't write about a tip from my…" He trailed off.

"Can I send it to anyone?"

"Vic," he said gently. "You don't have to-y'know- _pretend_ to be interested."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. " _Pretend?"_ she intoned. "I'm not _pretending_ to be interested. I _think_ I have a tip." She had set down her fork and placed both her hands on either side of the plate. Teddy recognized this gesture; she was angry.

He pushed his chair back, his palms facing up, a gesture of calming. "Okay. Tell me."

So she did.

She told him about the patient coming in last week. She told him about today, her twelve hours at the hospital, all the patients, Mrs. Garrido, and finally…

" _Greyback?"_ Teddy gaped. "But-that's not possible. Greyback is in Azkaban!"

Her eyes narrowed. "He's still alive?" She did have to admit that, while she knew the details of Greyback's defeat, she hadn't imagined that he would live this long. She had simply assumed he'd died in prison.

"Werewolves live longer than humans," Teddy said, lowering his eyes. _Except my dad,_ his expression seemed to say.

She wanted to reach out to him, put her hand on top of his, but her mind was racing.

"Teddy-how can we be sure? How can we be sure that Greyback is still there?"

He looked at her. "Harry would have known if he'd escaped," he said. "And besides, no one escapes from Azkaban."

"Except Sirius Black!" she retorted. "He was transformed into a dog-Greyback isn't human! He could have transformed and slipped past the guards. "

"There aren't Dementors guarding Azkaban anymore," Teddy replied. "The guards can tell when someone has escaped. Anyway, you're telling me your patient didn't even have a bite. Greyback bites to infect his victims. It's his trademark."

She fell silent. "I know, but…my patient," she said, sadly. " _Why_ does she think Greyback...did something to her?"

"Vic-you know what Greyback does," he said, ducking his head and trying to catch her eye. "Your patient-I'm sorry for her. But-"

"Yeah," she said, her hands balled up into fists in her lap. "You're probably right."

There was a pause. Then-"Vic," he said. "Vic, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, looking up at him absentmindedly, her mind lost in thought.

"Will you forgive me?"

She felt suddenly as if she had been dropped suddenly into her body. She stared at Teddy, his blue hair turning slightly pink at the ends like it did when he was edgy. His tanned face, his freckles and his lopsided smile-all the elements of his face that she knew so well-suddenly seemed alien to her. His brown eyes that looked at her appraisingly-not with love or laughter anymore. She only saw one thing in his face: pain.

" _Forgive_ you?" she whispered. "Teddy-"

"Forget it," he said, standing up to leave.

"Teddy..." she said, but he was already gone.

* * *

Teddy walked him to his flat, moodily.

Victoire was doing _fine_ , he realized. Her life seemed filled with possibility-the possibility of a new career, a new relationship, a new life in London. His life had become one endless reimagining of his past, filled with what if's and maybe's.

He clicked the door shut behind him, waving his wand to light the lamps. It was decorated sparsely-a small sofa, a modest amount of books, some pictures, a clean but shabby rug. The space was untidy, but in an organized sort of way. A newspaper sat on the coffee table with a cup of tea on top. A hanging poster was flopped over on the top corner. Photographs were cluttered on a bookshelf, also filled with books and other trinkets. He looked into the mirror by the door-Ginny's addition-and was surprised to see the ends of his usually blue hair were slightly pink. He sighed, and still wearing his jacket, flopped down on the sofa.

He replayed their conversation over again in their head, but couldn't seem to remember the details before he had asked for her forgiveness, and she'd hesitated, her eyes dropping to the ground. She wasn't ready to offer her forgiveness, and he had been foolish for asking for it.

When Teddy had broken up with Victoire, they'd stood right in this flat and argued.

They rarely argued. They didn't even bicker like Ron and Hermione.

They fought this time.

"You don't mean what you're saying," he remembered her saying to him, tears in her eyes.

"I do mean it!" he had shouted at her, watching her wince. "I mean it all." And when he saw that she had tears coming down her face, he contorted his face and whispered, " _I don't love you anymore."_

"Teddy," she had pleaded. "Teddy-please don't do this."

When he had refused, turned her away, and demanded that she leave, her desperation had turned to rage.

"You fucking bastard," she had screamed at him. "I wasted-all that time-everything was such a _waste."_ They had volleyed insults, reprimands, old grievances against one another until they both sat, exhausted on opposite sides of the room.

Before Victoire left, she turned and said shakily, "I never want to see you again." When she slammed the door and he was certain she was gone, he lay in his bed and slept fitfully.

Teddy had tried to forget that day. He stared at the coffee table, remembering her sitting on it, her hands on his knees, begging him to reconsider.

But he hadn't.

He slowly took off his jacket, thinking about how lovely she had looked tonight-how grown up and adult. The spoiled, haughty-but-kind, brimming with joy girl he had grown up with was gone, replaced by a thoughtful, serious woman. And he wondered if he had done that to her. _Stolen her joy_.

He fell asleep on the couch, his dreams filled with blue eyes and freckles and long, bared fangs.

* * *

Victoire went to bed after clearing the kitchen. Her conversation with Teddy played over and over in her head.

Greyback was in Azkaban. Her patient didn't have any bites. Teddy wanted her to forgive him.

 _Forgive him_.

Her brain unwillingly slid back to their ugly fight in his flat. The awful things she'd said to him. The way she'd left, hoping he'd come after her but angry enough to not want him to.

He had. A week later, after she had been moping in her bedroom at Shell Cottage, she heard his voice. He was talking to her dad, quietly. Bill was explaining something in a hushed tone. Victoire jumped out of bed, splashed water on her face and changed into a blue dress that matched her eyes exactly. She ran a brush through her hair and wore it loose and down, they way he always liked it.

He knocked and she let him in. She had thought he'd been here to reconcile, to say he made a mistake, that he wanted her back, to kiss her and hold her.

That was not what he'd come to say.

He brought a box of her things she'd left at his flat: some clothes, her toothbrush, her Healer books and papers, and old photos. He set them down on the chair.

"Vic," he'd said. "We can't do this anymore. I can't be with you."

" _Why?"_ she'd choked out.

"We don't feel the same way about each other."

"All this time?"

He nodded. _I won't cry in front of him again_ , she remembered promising herself.

"Then you should leave," she had whispered, turning away so she couldn't see him leave. He'd left. She'd been inconsolable for weeks.

She deferred her acceptance to St. Mungo's and spent the months reading her books, swimming in the sea and visiting her friends. She went to France for a month to see her fabulous aunt, Gabrielle, who took her on a _very_ tipsy tour of French wine country. Teddy had skipped Weasley Christmas that year. When Harry had told the family, Victoire's grandmother had burst into tears.

By the time she was supposed to leave for London, she was finally starting to feel okay again. She had kissed a few boys in France, and even slept with one when she went to see Bianca in Ireland, but nothing felt the same after Teddy.

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly realized there was a ghostly white presence outside her window. Her heart hammering, she pushed open the curtains to see a small canary flapping its wings furiously. She cracked open the window and the bird flew in.

"Come outside," said Avi's voice. She laughed quietly, stuck her head outside and saw Avi standing underneath her window. She smiled at him, and he gestured at her to come down, grinning.

"One minute," she mouthed, and sliding out from under the covers, she ran down the stairs and out the door in her pajamas.

"Hi," she said breathlessly to him, as he sat on the doorstep.

"Hello," he said, smiling and patting the step next to him, indicating that she should sit down. She obeyed, glancing over at him. He was still in his light green Healer-in-training robes. His hair was mussed, and he looked tired but pleased to see her.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she said.

"I heard about your day. Are you ok?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. It was busy-but...I got to learn a lot."

He smiled. "You're always the first to look for a silver lining!" His smile reminded her of her Uncle Ron-big, open, every feeling etched on his face. She was the same way, unable to hide anything she was feeling.

"Avi-" she paused. "I meant to talk to you today-yesterday, I mean. Last week-" He held up his hand

"I told you you didn't need to explain. "

"No, but I want to," she said, placing her hand on his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "That guy that was here-"

"I know who that was," Avi said. She leaned back, examining him.

"You did?"

"Victoire," he said placatingly. "You're a great Healer, and you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen but you're not great at hiding things." She blushed, angry at her body for betraying her. "Do you want to tell me what happened with him?"

She smiled gratefully. She'd only ever chatted about this with Bianca. Teddy was such a huge part of her life. Everyone in her family adored him; she couldn't tell _them_ how he had broken her heart.

"Well-he _was_ my boyfriend," she started, "but we grew up together. He's Harry's godson. We were at Hogwarts together-and we spent summers together-we basically spent every moment together. I-" She paused, assessing Avi's expression. He looked interested and sympathetic. "I applied to St. Mungo's because he lives here, in London. I wanted to be here. But then last summer, he broke it off."

It was Avi's turn to give her hand a squeeze.

"And-it was really hard," she said. "I hadn't ever been with anyone else or felt that way about anyone." She stopped, feeling like she was rambling. "I'm sorry if I'm confusing you."

She fixed her clear blue eyes into his brown ones. "But I really like you," she said, pushing forward. "And if you want to, I think we should go out again."

His face broke out into a grin. "That's what I was waiting for," he said, leaning forward and kissing her. She was surprised at first, but he smelled like oranges and sweat and mint and she leaned in to kiss him, placing her hands gingerly on his shoulders. He shifted his body to face her and carefully put his hands at her waist.

She felt a surge of electricity run up her spine. _Whoa_ , she thought. He parted his lips, and she followed suit, gently touching her tongue to his. She felt rather than heard him groan, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him.

She had kissed other boys since Teddy, but kissing Avi felt different than other boys. Kissing him felt like the first leap into the sea after a long winter: familiar but alien, joyful but a little scary, comforting but mysterious.

They broke apart, staring at each other. He looked awestruck; Victoire smiled at his expression.

"Whoa," he said, mimicking her own thought earlier.

"Whoa," she repeated.

They sat on the stoop talking until Avi's watch exclaimed, "You're late, buddy." He glanced at his watch and looked up horrorstruck. "It's 2 am!"

Victoire smirked. "Tired of me already?"

"Never." He leaned over to kiss her again, and she let him. "But I have to be at the hospital in six hours!"

"Go," she said. He stood, grinned and walked down the street. She watched him go, then turned and went inside to her bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_The heart beneath is teaching,_

_To the broken heart above._

_-Leonard Cohen_

* * *

"Bloody loud birds," Teddy grumbled to himself as he was woken the next morning to the sounds of an aviary chorale. The insides of his eyelids were red with the sunshine streaming onto his face. He rubbed his forehead, feeling damp beads of sweat on his brow. He had slept badly, his dreams filled with blonde hair and blue eyes and blood and the full moon.

He rolled out of bed, his thin t-shirt sticking to his back, and padded to the bathroom. He splashed icy cold water on his face and examined himself in the mirror.

 _You're a wreck_ , he thought, staring at himself in the mirror. Dark shadows underlined his brown eyes, and the skin around his lips was pinched looking. He hadn't shaven in two days, giving him a scraggly appearance, and his hair needed cutting. Shrugging, he tugged off his t-shirt and stepped into the shower, hoping the spray of warm water would wake him up enough to drag himself into work.

* * *

"Oi!" Mark Atlas, a writer at  _Lumos_ , exclaimed. "You look rough, mate. Up all night?" The corners of his mouth twitched as Teddy sauntered in.

Teddy shook his head. "Nah, just couldn't sleep." He sat down heavily in his chair, pushing aside crumpled canary yellow news tips to look at his desk calendar.

"Well, Hannah Priest was here looking for you," Mark said. "I didn't know you were still seeing her." Mark leaned back in his chair, smirking.

"Er," Teddy muttered. "It's complicated." He shrugged lamely. He had been hoping that his careless fling with Hannah would peter out naturally, and it had seemed on the course to doing just that. "Did she say what she wanted?"

"Nah, just looking for you," he said. "She had to get back to the Ministry, though. She had some appointments, she said."

Hannah Priest was a Ministry of Magic employee that Teddy had interviewed last spring about sourcing certain types of magic. They'd been on a few dates since then, though he wasn't sure what to make of her. She seemed to like going out with him, kissing him and sleeping with him, but she rarely contacted him herself. Her sudden appearance in his office gave him pause, a prickle of begrudging excitement creeping up his spine.

"I have to get to the Ministry, anyway," Teddy said, standing back up and grabbing his work bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Need to talk to Shacklebolt's Goblin Policy Adviser about the goblin made artifacts piece."

"Right. Good luck!" Teddy started to leave, but Mark yelled back at him, "Hey! Lupin!" He paused. "Cuffe was in here earlier, and told me to tell you to clear off your desk. You know how he is about tidiness."

Teddy rolled his eyes. Barnabas Cuffe was the editor-in-chief of  _The Daily Prophet_ who was always courting investors for the paper and liked to show them around. Teddy grabbed a fistful of the crumpled up tips and crammed them into his jacket pocket. "I'll do it when I get back later," he said, and left.

* * *

The gleaming black hall of the Ministry of Magic had always impressed Teddy. The shining dark marble, the enormous fountain in the center of the hall, the hustle & bustle of the space always felt very grand. The air around him seemed to positively crackle with magical energy.

Teddy leaned against the edge of the fountain, holding a sheaf of parchment in his hands. As he inspected his notes from his interview with Longclaw, the head of the Minister of Magic's Office of Goblin Public Policy, he felt a small, warm hand on his arm. He turned to see Hannah Priest standing there smiling at him.

"Hey there, tiger," she purred, her small heart-shaped face smiling up at him. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would have dressed up for you."

"You clearly already did," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She glanced down, shrugging. She was wearing witches' robes, but they were open in the front to reveal a thin, low cut white shirt tucked into a tight black skirt.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she pouted. Teddy hesitated, unsure if this was an invitation to ask her out again. The excited prickle was back, now crawling its way up his neck, making him shiver slightly.

"So let's go out again," he said, trying not to notice how low the neck of her blouse dipped. "This Friday?"

"Perfect," she said, winking at him. "What are you doing now? I have a break."

He agreed to have a coffee in the cafeteria at the Ministry.

Sitting across from her, Teddy had to appreciate Hannah's dark, wild brand of beauty. Her eyes were a haunting gray flecked with gold, fringed by long, dark eyelashes. Curly black hair framed her pale, pointed face, a curly tendril falling casually on her forehead. Her pouty mouth looked like Cupid's bow.

"What have you been up to?" Hannah asked, sipping her coffee slowly, cradling the paper cup in both her hands.

"Working on this story about stolen goblin artifacts that are in museums. The goblins are asking that they be returned to them," he said. "What about you?"

"You know I can't tell you that," she said coyly. It was true; Hannah was a researcher in the Department of Mysteries, but she had been a Healer abroad before coming to the Ministry. As far as Teddy knew, Hannah was hired at the Ministry of Magic under a fiscal grant called The Genesis Project. The grant, part of a very generous donation from Albus Dumbledore's estate, paid the Ministry of Magic to examine sources of magic among all magical beings. Hannah's specialty was testing magical capability in a variety of creatures.

"Hey," he said, suddenly feeling brave. "Do you know if someone can become a werewolf without being bitten by a werewolf?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Another story?"

"Kind of," he fibbed, glancing down into his cup and taking a big swig of the steaming hot liquid.

"Well, yeah," she said, leaning forward in her chair. Teddy suspected it was so he could glance down her blouse; he determinedly looked at her face. "You don't necessarily have to be bitten to turn into a werewolf, but it's pretty rare the other ways. If you sleep under a full moon, you can show symptoms. If you drink water from the footprint of a werewolf, you can show symptoms. If you get the blood of a werewolf mixed with your blood. There are other ways, but I couldn't tell you them without researching."

Teddy looked at her thoughtfully. She was one of the most brilliant people he'd ever met. Her intelligence shone through her beauty, highlighting the planes of her face and making her even more beautiful.

"Why are you asking anyway?" she asked.

"I heard some funny stuff is happening at St. Mungo's," he said vaguely. "Just wanted to see if it was worth exploring."

She peered at him, looking suspicious but not saying much. She drained her coffee, set the cup down and said, "I've gotta run. See you Friday?"

"Yep," he replied, draining his own cup. "Seven okay?"

She smiled, showing a row of straight, bright white teeth. "Yeah."

She came around the table, kissed him on the cheek and walked away. He watched her, thinking about what she'd just said, mesmerized by the swaying of her hips.

* * *

As he made his way to the fireplaces to Floo back to  _The Daily Prophet,_ a small cluster of witches and wizards caught his eye and ears.

"...yes, and we think the Potters will be very pleased with the renaming," a short little wizard with flyaway hair was saying. "It was only with their generosity that we were able to get these updates to the Hospital Wing in the first place."

With a smirk, Teddy made a mental note to mention this to his godfather that evening at dinner.

As Teddy meandered to the Potters that evening, he thought about Dr. Hannah Priest and their date for this Friday.

When he'd first met Hannah Priest, he hadn't really been interested in dating again. They'd met at a cafe near the Ministry of Magic where Teddy sometimes had coffee with Harry, and he'd interviewed her about some of the more controversial projects the Ministry took on without informing the public.

The first twinge of attraction had been there on  _his_  end, at least, but it wasn't until after he had met with her twice more for clarifications on quotes that he realized she was coming onto him, too.

He'd asked her out after the story was published in March. They'd gone to a concert in Diagon Alley, and afterward he had kissed her on her doorstep. It was a timid kiss, like he was testing out the waters, but she responded enthusiastically, arching her back into his body and pressing her small hands into his back.

The idea of sleeping with her had crossed his mind periodically over the few days after their first date, but he had never been with anyone but Victoire. There was something very unusual about Hannah-not just her physical features, but the way she presented herself, the mysterious nature of her work, and something  _else_  he couldn't quite put his finger on. He couldn't help but compare her to Victoire, who was like a light in a dark room. Hannah  _was_ the dark room.

"Edward Remus Lupin has arrived for dinner," the door clanged. Teddy looked back at it with a scowl as he flung his jacket on the bench next to the door. A number of the crumpled up  _Lumos_ tips fell out of his pocket. He hastily shoved them back into the jacket.

"Hey, Harry," he said, walking into the dining room where his godfather was setting the table. "What's this I hear about them renaming the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts after you? You miss being in there or something?"

Harry reddened and bowed his head, embarrassed. Teddy spied a number of silvery hairs making their way into the dark, untidy head that belonged to his godfather.

"Oh, shut it," Harry grumbled. "We made a donation to Hogwarts to do some standard updates. Y'know, new beds, including some updated Muggle technology, buying some Potions and the next thing you know, the school governors are thinking they'll rename the whole wing after me."

"It'll be called 'The Chosen One's Hospital Wing' since he practically lived there," Ginny said, laughing and carrying two large platters.

Teddy chuckled. "So not only are you Head Auror, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One but now you're also a school patron. What's next, Muggle Prime Minister?"

" _Don't_ tempt me, boy," Harry said warningly. "I might just do it."

Teddy looked around, noticing the quiet. "Where are your demon spawn?"

Ginny sighed. "Oh, I sent them to the Burrow," she said, rolling her eyes. "All their cousins are there this week, and they pouted so much this morning that I basically threw them in the Floo."

"Not  _all_ their cousins," said a blonde head from the doorway. "I'm still here."

She, too, was carrying a platter of roast chicken. Her eyes looked over Teddy impassively.

"Yes, so it'll just be us olds for dinner," Harry said, putting an arm around his wife and grinning.

" _Olds?"_ Ginny said, her eyes alight with amusement. "Speak for yourself, Potter."

As they all sat down and began dishing out food on their plates, Harry told them more about the dedication ceremony for the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

"It'll be on my birthday," Harry said, "and everyone is invited, of course. We've got rooms for everyone at the Hogsmeade Inn to stay the weekend. Vic, your parents have already confirmed they'll be there."

Teddy was barely paying attention; after their conversation last night, the tension between he and Victoire had alleviated, but now he felt a  _different_  sort of tension. He shifted nervously in place.

Victoire looked incredibly pretty tonight. She was wearing a floaty navy blue dress covered with sparkling gold flowers. Her hair was half up, and her tanned, freckly shoulders were bare. Around her neck, he realized suddenly, was the half-moon necklace he'd given her their first Christmas as a couple. She touched it periodically, a familiar motion he remembered fondly. Every time her fingers grazed the necklace, a hot bubble formed in his stomach.

"Oh, Vic," Ginny said suddenly. "I forgot to tell you that we've had an owl from Shell Cottage, and your parents will be here this Friday!"

"Oh?" she said curiously. "For what? Trying to keep an eye on me?"

"Some Gringotts thing with your dad, but since Dom and Louis are at the Burrow, they figured they would try to see all of us," Harry replied. "And don't worry-we owl them full reports on your whereabouts daily so they don't need to come here to keep an eye on you." Harry winked at Victoire, and she rolled her eyes, a playful smile on her lips.

Teddy's throat tightened as they discussed their plans for Friday night. Since the breakup, Fleur and Bill , who had always been exceptionally kind and caring toward Teddy, had become very chilly toward him. He remembered going to Shell Cottage the week after their ugly fight, and Bill had gently explained to Teddy that it was probably best if he made himself scarce for a while. It had felt like a punch to the gut when he realized that not only had his relationship with Victoire ended, but the family he thought he'd had in Fleur and Bill had been a condition of him dating their daughter.

When he had skipped Weasley Christmas, Lily had later told him that Victoire and her mother had gotten into a furious argument over whether Teddy should or shouldn't be there. He didn't ask which side Victoire picked.

"Teddy, you'll come, right?" Victoire asked, fingering her necklace in a way that made his head spin. "On Friday?"

He snapped out of his reverie, looking at her. "I can't," he said flatly, remembering the date he'd made with Hannah. "I've got a big deadline I need to meet."

Her face betrayed nothing at his response, but Harry was looking at him with a grim sort of expression.

As they finished eating, the doorbell rang. Victoire pushed her chair back, saying, "That'll be me."

"Have fun, Vic," Ginny said, grasping Victoire's hand gently as she passed by. Victoire smiled at her aunt, gave a small wave to Teddy and Harry and left.

"Ted," Harry said the moment they heard the front door close. "You really can't make it on Friday?"

Teddy shook his head, the light glinting off his blue hair. "No."

"But it's not work?"

"You really wanna know what it is?" Teddy stared at Harry, hoping he was conveying what he was trying to say.

"I see."

"I wish you two would bloody  _talk,"_ Ginny said in a huffy tone. "I for one have never seen either of you be so miserable to be around. Vic is so  _serious_  now, and you, Teddy, even when you're here, you're barely here! I wish you would tell us what happened between you two."

This was the most Ginny had said on the subject. Harry was pretending to be momentarily deaf, cutting his food with a scientific precision.

"I want to—explain it," Teddy said in a low voice, looking at Ginny. "I really do. You have to understand that. I know everyone is...confused."

"Then explain it," Ginny said. "We're your  _family."_

"Gin," Harry said, "that's enough. He doesn't want to talk about it. Do you?" He looked at Teddy now.

"I... _can't._ I have to explain it to  _her_  first." Teddy paused. "And I can't bring it back up because she's only just started talking to me and I don't want to mess anything up again."

"What?" Both Harry and Ginny looked at him now, but it was Ginny who spoke. "What do you mean, you need to explain it to her?"

"I couldn't tell her why I had to break it off," he started. "It's complicated. There are thing I want her to-what?" The Potters were both grinning now, their facial expressions the complete opposite of what they had been mere moments before.

"So you didn't cheat on her?" Ginny asked.

Teddy gaped. " _No._ Is that what everyone thinks?  _Bloody_  hell."

"You broke up so suddenly and Vic wasn't saying anything and you didn't say anything either so we all kind of put two and two together…" Ginny trailed off.

"You're wrong." Teddy said firmly. Then it dawned on him. "Is that why Bill and Fleur have pretended to be deaf and blind when I'm around? They don't speak to me at all if they don't have to. They barely greeted me at Easter."

Ginny nodded. "Teddy, you know we all love you. My brother-" Ginny paused. "-is very protective of his children. He'll come around."

"We're sorry, Ted," Harry said. "We shouldn't have assumed that. We didn't know." He finished lamely, holding his palms up in a repentant way.

"I didn't cheat on her, for the record," Teddy said, moving his blueberry tart around on his plate. "And now I'd like to move on from this subject.

Ginny cleared her throat and started talking about ideas for James's graduation gift.

* * *

Victoire and Avi walked hand-in-hand back to the Potter's house. They'd spent their evening at the art show of one of Victoire's friends from Hogwarts. She'd gotten a little tipsy on wine at the show, and she and Avi had kissed urgently in a corner, her hands grabbing at the back of his jacket.

The stars twinkled overhead, and Victoire was feeling a little less tipsy.

"So…" Avi said. "Are we going to tell people we're dating?"

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think they already know," Victoire had said, referencing the gallery opening.

Avi blushed deeply, remembering her friends jeering as they stumbled out from their secluded corner.

"You know what I mean," he said. "People at the hospital. Your family."

"Oh! Avi! My parents will be here on Friday, if you want to meet them," she said, turning her face to his.

"Your parents?" He looked surprised.

"Oh," she said, suddenly mortified. Of course. They'd been on just a few dates and kissed a handful of times. "Too soon, right."

"No, Victoire!" He stopped her turning to face her. "It's not that-it's just that I have an appointment at the Ministry."

"Oh, right," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.  _When is the right time to meet someone's family?_  She made a mental note to ask Bianca the next time they spoke.

After a prolonged snog with Avi on the front step, she went into the house, dreading the door announcing her return. She hung up her bag on the pegs by the door and reached down to unstrap her sandals.

There was something there. A crumpled piece of parchment that had gotten kicked underneath the bench. She picked it up and noted with interest that it was on Ministry of Magic letterhead.  _Maybe something from Uncle Harry,_ she thought, uncrumpling it and reading it.

_It will happen._

_The thieves of magic will arrive at St. Mungo's with incurable headaches, their bodies diseased with wolf's blood._

_Within a fortnight, the thieves will be punished for their treachery with lycanthropy. The werewolf army will rise once more._

_It will happen._

Her heart started racing, her eyes zipping over the paper.  _Incurable aches of the mind. St. Mungo's._

"Mrs. Garrido," she whispered, suddenly animated with horrified energy. She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, stepped out the door and Apparated to St. Mungo's.

* * *

"Miss Weasley!" exclaimed Healer Longbottom. "What are you doing here? You just left a few hours ago."

"Healer," Victoire huffed. "Where is Mrs. Garrido, my emergency patient from yesterday?"

"Why, she's still on the second floor, dear, with her husband, but what-" Healer Longbottom said. She didn't have the chance to finish as Victoire sprinted toward the stairs, taking them two at a time.

When she got to Mrs. Garrido's door, she knew something was immediately wrong. There was an eerie silence on the entire second floor. She eased the door open; there was a curtain around the bed.

Victoire pulled out her wand before approaching the curtain.

She pushed back the curtain slowly, holding her breath.

The hospital bed was empty, the crisp white sheet thrown back carelessly to reveal long gashes in the mattress, the stuffing falling out indecently. Victoire's eyes moved to the ground next to the bed. Mr. Garrido, the sweet, concerned husband, was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, his eyes closed. If not for the blood, Victoire might have thought he was sleeping.

She opened her mouth, and a scream came out.

After she screamed, a few things happened in rapid succession.

A trio of Healers found her, standing with her wand out, staring in horror at Mr. Garrido.

She felt a pair of strong hands grab her and pull her away from the scene. Two of the Healers crouched down next to Mr. Garrido, blocking him from view.

Another tall Healer ran past her, his wand up.

She felt the hands steer her into the hall. Blood was pounding in her ears. Everything seemed to be moving too fast.

"Miss Weasley," said Healer Longbottom, holding Victoire's shoulders in a viselike grip. "What's happened?"

Victoire, trembling, said, "I think something very strange is happening here." And then she fainted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Long ago, I was wounded. I lived_

_to revenge myself_

_against my father, not_

_for what he was-_

_for what I was: from the beginning of time,_

_in childhood, I thought_

_that pain meant_

_I was not loved._

_It meant I loved._

_\- Louise Gluck_

* * *

Victoire awoke with a start, her eyes flying open to see the dark, patterned ceiling of her hospital room. She attempted to sit up, but the pounding in her head overpowered her and she fell back onto the bed, trying to remember the last few things that had happened before she'd passed out in Mrs. Garrido's hospital room.

 _Mr. Garrido,_ she thought with a pang. A hot lump formed in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut as salty tears slid from her eyes into her hairline, tracking their path deep into the jungle of her silvery hair.

She lay there, listening to the noises outside her hospital room. For so late at night, St. Mungo's was alive with activity. Never before had a patient attacked anyone in the hospital and then fled the premises, now at large. She could hear shouts of Healers running every which way, probably trying to protect their patients while also searching for Mrs. Garrido.

Victoire opened her eyes again, and her eyes fell on her little brown purse that sat on the little side table next to her hospital bed. Grimacing, she struggled her way to a sitting position and pulled the purse onto her lap. She opened the top of it, and turned the little bag over. Out tumbled a startling variety of things: a small wallet where she kept her Apparition license, four different kinds of lip products, a Muggle mobile phone, a packet of tissues, a single bandage, a black hair band, a number of bobby pins, an ink pen and several crumpled pieces of paper. She gingerly grabbed the yellow one, crumpled into a tiny little ball. She smoothed it out over her lap and read:

_It will happen._

_The thieves of magic will arrive at St. Mungo's with incurable headaches, their bodies diseased with wolf's blood._

_Within a fortnight, the thieves will be punished for their treachery with lycanthropy. The werewolf army will rise once more._

_It will happen._

She stared at the words, wondering how it was possible that this warning had come, so conveniently, to her.

And then she gasped. Because of course, it hadn't come to her at all.

Swiftly, she dumped everything back into her purse. On a piece of scrap paper, she scribbled a note of her own, leaving it on the side of her bed. Then, she swung her legs around the side of the bed, yanked on her shoes, slung her purse over her shoulder and made for the door.

* * *

A sharp knock roused Teddy from a very pleasant, very blonde dream he had been having. Flat life, in his experience, had been thus far not quiet, and he rolled over in his bed sleepily, presuming his rowdy neighbors were having their usual late night argument. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized that the knock was coming from his front door. He checked the clock on his nightstand. It was two o'clock in the morning.

 _Who could be here at this hour?_ He drew his wand and padded through the darkened room, shirtless and in pajama bottoms, to the front door. He peered through the peephole, and recoiled, his heart thudding a tattoo against his chest. Victoire was standing on his doorstep.

He fumbled as he removed the chain from the latch, unlocked the door and opened it to reveal her in her blue and gold dress from earlier in the evening, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. Her blue eyes were shot with red, and her face looked tight with exhaustion.

"Victoire," he said, opening the door wider so she could step in. "What the—"

"Hi," she said curtly, stepping over the threshold and into the flat.

He stepped aside to let her in, closing the door behind him, fumbling again as he . He watched as she took stock of the room, her eyes running over the same family photos on the shelf, the books and newspapers.

"Looks the same," she said, waving her wand to turn on the lamps. The light made Teddy squint, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the sudden brightness.

"I haven't had time to do much with the place."

She took a seat, clutching something tightly in her whitened fist and staring at him, her eyes unseeing.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, moving to sit next to her on the sofa.

"Teddy," she whispered. "Is this yours?" She shoved a piece of paper into his hand, and looked at him expectantly. He took the crumpled yellow piece of paper from her, flattening it out on the coffee table and looking at the tip he had received months ago. All the color drained from his face. Where had Victoire come from? Where was her date?

"Yes," he said. "Yes, it is."

She stood up now, crossing the room and turning to face him. "TEDDY!" she exploded. "When did you get this?"

"A few weeks ago! It came to the paper. We thought it seemed like a load of bollocks," he said, standing up suddenly and gripping his hair. He strode to the opposite end of the room. "I can't believe I...forgot."

"Forgot?! Teddy, I told you about my patients! How did you forget this? Your dad was a werewolf!" She crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing her body so tightly that she thought she might stop breathing.

"Shhhhhh!" he hissed. "Not many people know about...that. Keep it down."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "My patients are in danger," she hissed back. "And you want me to _keep it down?_ For your information, one my patients attacked her husband and now no one's knows where she is! Because you _forgot_ that you had what's essentially a threat to all Muggle-borns sent to your office!"

He suddenly wheeled around to look at her. "I forgot because you were finally talking to me again!" he exclaimed, dropping his hands to his side.

"You know better than to use that excuse, Teddy Lupin," she said accusingly, walking up to him and jamming a finger painfully into his chest. "You know what we have to do now, don't you?"

Teddy shook his head. She looked at him intensely, her normally pale blue eyes almost electric, and he was risking forgetting everything again as he stared into her eyes.

"We have to go to Azkaban."

At first he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly, but as she began pacing the flat, listing the things they'd need to make the journey, he realized that she was completely serious.

After an hour, they had a plan. "Ok," Victoire said, standing up and smoothing her dress over her lap. "I'm going to go pack a bag, and I'll meet you back here in an hour."

Teddy nodded numbly. "Okay," he said. "But you realize this is absolutely fucking bonkers, yeah?"

"I'll have my broom, too," she said, purposely ignoring him. "Just in case." She gave him a terse smile, strode to the door and was gone a mere moment later.

Teddy began to absentmindedly wave his wand, getting out his old school bag. In it he threw some changes of clothes, a toothbrush, some books, and his papers and quills. Under any other circumstances, he might have protested Victoire's absurd plan, but the idea of coming face-to-face with Fenrir Greyback filled him with such a sickening pleasure that he wasn't able to resist Victoire's plot. It didn't hurt that he was getting to spend more time with her now than he had in the last year.

 _Greyback,_ he thought, his mind wandering aimlessly as he rummaged through his kitchen. _Greyback bit my dad._ Teddy didn't remember his father. He had, after all, only been four weeks old when both his parents had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd seen Remus Lupin's photo and heard enough stories to know that since receiving Greyback's bite, his father's life had changed for the worse.

Even Remus Lupin's happiest times-his time at Hogwarts, his romance with Teddy's mother, his briefest of brief times as a father-had seemed to be tinged with stigma. The shame Remus Lupin experienced being a werewolf was something that was palpable in every image Teddy had ever seen of his father.

He had felt his father's shame when Victoire had given him the Pensieve, too. He thought morosely of the memories he had seen in the Pensieve-the one that he kept hidden in his clothes closet, taking it out only to rewatch the most painful memory.

For his birthday last year, Victoire had done the painstaking work of collecting memories of both Teddy's parents and placing them in a Pensieve. She had presented it to him when they were in Greece, staying in a tiny house in the cliffs of Santorini. They had spent the whole day swimming in the clear, blue water and after dinner in a twinkling restaurant, they'd returned back to the villa.

"Happy birthday, Teddy," she'd said, sitting on the terrace with him as he opened the gifts that had been owled to him that morning-a brand new watch from Harry and Ginny, a smart desk planner from Bill and Fleur and a big box of sweets from Mrs. Weasley. "I have something for you."

"You don't need to give me a gift," he said, smiling at her over the pile of gifts. Her cheeks were a little sunburnt, the effect of months of nearly constant holiday sunshine. He thought she looked beautiful that night, with the moon full and bright, turning her hair into a sheet of silver.

"Well, I already got you a gift," she said Her eyes sparkled as she cupped her chin in her hand, tilting her head to look at Teddy. She lifted her wand. " _Accio!"_ she said, and through the doorway a ceramic bowl with shimmering contents drifted toward them. Victoire carefully moved the other packages away and directed the bowl on the glass topped table between them. Teddy looked astounded, gazing at the bowl with its runic lettering around the edges.

"Is that a-"

"Pensieve, yeah," Victoire said. "It was a tricky bit of magic, but I had help from Aunt Hermione. Anyway, I _think_ I got it right." She looked at Teddy hopefully.

"What's-" As if on cue, an image swam to the top of the shimmering, silvery contents of the bowl: a man in shabby-looking clothes with sandy hair colored with gray embracing a woman with bright pink hair. The woman was holding a tiny bundle, and Teddy could see the top of the bundle had a shock of bright blue hair.

Instinctively, he touched the edges of his own hair. "Is it-"

Victoire's eyes were bright, hopeful. "Yes," she replied. "I collected the memories of them all last year. I had to ask loads of people, but I think I got them all."

"Your N.E.W.T. year?" Teddy exclaimed. She nodded. He had always marveled at her ability to balance schoolwork with all her other obligations. "Weren't you a little busy, I dunno, _studying?"_

"Happy birthday," she said, covering his hand with her own slender one. "Do you want to...try it?"

And he had. He had ducked his head, the tip of his nose touching the surface of the memories and he had fallen into them. He saw his father as a young child (a memory from an old neighbor), his mother's birth (at St. Mungo's), their work with the Order, how they met and fell in love, their very private wedding, her telling him she was pregnant. Every memory seemed happier, more joyous than the last.

Finally, he got to Harry's memories.

Teddy sat next to Harry, starting at Remus Lupin. They were sitting at rough wooden table, in the dining room of a very old, foreboding house. _Grimmauld Place,_ Teddy thought. He stared across the table at his father, who looked pale, drawn and worried. His sandy hair was streaked with gray, and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a shabby cloak over a thin shirt.

He was arguing with a seventeen year-old Harry.

"I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks," Remus Lupin was saying. "I did it against my better judgement and have regretted it very much ever since."

Teddy watched the argument in horror, listening to his father entertain thoughts of abandoning his mother and by extension, Teddy himself. He saw Remus stand up, enraged, and jab his wand toward Harry. Harry's slender body flew across the room right as Teddy stood up. His brain was foggy, yearning to follow his father but knowing the memory would then end. He turned around to face Harry, now being helped up by Hermione.

"Parents shouldn't leave their kids-" Harry was saying. "-unless they've got to."

Teddy couldn't bear it any longer. He jerked his head away from the Pensieve, looking horrorstruck. He pushed his chair back and stood up, stumbling backwards and falling to his knees. Victoire flew to him, kneeling in front of him, her pale blue eyes filled with tears. "What-what happened?" she cried, dismayed that her gift had received this kind of reaction.

"Wha-oh, nothing," he said, reaching out to her and cupping her face, running his thumb over her cheekbone. She inched closer to him, one hand on his chest, the other touching his face. "Nothing at all."

"D'you-like it?" she asked.

"Yes," he lied, thinking only about his father's awful expression as he tried to convince Harry to let him join the hunt for Horcruxes and Harry's immediate refusal. "Let's go to bed. I'm tired."

A knock at the door pushed Teddy out of his musings. "It's me," said Victoire's urgent voice. "Let me in."

He let her in. She was wearing her traveling cloak, a bag slung over her shoulder and a broomstick strapped to her back.

"You ready?" she said. "I know where we should go first."

He nodded, threw on his cloak, grabbed his bag and broomstick and stood in front of her. She grabbed his arm, nodded and together, they turned rapidly on the spot.

They were gone moments later.

* * *

They landed hard on a stone path. Teddy stumbled forward, nearly falling with the impact. In the distance, Victoire could see the flickering lights of a little town.

"We'll have to walk there," she said to Teddy curtly. They began trudging in silence, her bag bouncing off her leg with every step.

"Where are we?" Teddy asked after a few minutes of walking.

"Holy Island," she said. "We're walking to Hadrian's Hamlet."

" _Hadrian's Hamlet?"_ Teddy said. "Why'd you take us all the bloody way up here?"

"Azkaban's in the North Sea, genius," she snapped. "We have to get as close as we can without Apparating internationally. Otherwise, they'll know we've gone."

"Who will know?"

"The Ministry. Honestly, you call yourself a journalist?"

He got quiet as they walked, their shoes clacking noisily on the stone path.

As they approached the town, Victoire said, "I have the rings." Teddy paused while Victoire reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out two plain gold bands. She handed one to Teddy and slipped the other on her left hand's ring finger.

"How did you make them?" he asked, slipping his own ring on, noting that it fit perfectly.

"Used my moon necklace," she said, trying not to make eye contact with Teddy. "I put a few charms on them in case we...need them."

They approached a small inn called The Invisible Bed & Breakfast. Victoire pushed open the door, Teddy tagging along close behind her.

"Hello, dears!" said the smiling witch at the front desk. "Lookin' for a bite?"

"A room, actually," Teddy said. "My, er, wife and I are on holiday up here." He took Victoire's hand, feeling her stiffen next to him. He gave her hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

The witch smiled. "Well, how fortunate then as we've just had a room open up," she said. "A young lady from the Ministry just left us moments ago."

"We'll take it," Teddy said, handing her money.

A wizened old man took their bag and led them to their room, a friendly sort of room with an enormous stone fireplace, a cozy patchwork quilt on the bed and a small desk by the window, which showcased a stunning view of the ocean.

"Breakfast is at seven o'clock, sir," said the ancient wizard, bowing low and moving to exit.

Victoire gave Teddy a Very Significant Look. He cleared his throat. "Ahem," he said. "My wife and I were hoping to take a flying tour around the island tomorrow. Could we get a map of the island?"

"Yes, sir," he said. "We can arrange that for you at the desk. Just ask for an area map."

"Great," Teddy said. "Thank you so much."

The old wizard bowed deeply and wheezed out of the room. Teddy locked the door, turned around to find Victoire sitting on the bed, poring deeply over a book.

"Wazzat?" he said, suddenly feeling his exhaustion deeply. He had, after all, been woken from a very deep sleep.

"A book about Greyback," she said, holding up the book. "I borrowed it from Uncle Harry."

"Borrowed it, eh? More like, you snuck into his study and nicked it?"

"He wasn't _using_ it," she protested. "Anyway, it's not very useful. It tells us everything we already know: he prefers bites."

"Did you tell anyone at St. Mungo's about your theory?" Teddy said, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed.

Victoire paused. She barely remembered leaving the hospital, but she did remember scrawling the note for Healer Longbottom and Healer Burns. _Keep all the patients isolated_ , she had written. _They could be dangerous to others_. She had felt guilty writing it, thinking about her own, gentle, scarred father who had spoiled her and her siblings rotten, who wasn't a danger to anyone.

"I left a note," she said.

"A _note?_ People are turning into werewolves and you're writing _notes?_ What did it say? _Dear Healers, Everyone's turning into werewolves, run!"_

"Oh, ok, who's the one who forgot that they received a tip about _people turning into werewolves for no reason?"_ Victoire shot back. Teddy swallowed. He'd seen her in this mood before, many times at Hogwarts when they had studied together in the Hufflepuff common room and then, in his last year, the Head Boy suite.

"You should sleep," he said, inching slowly off the bed. "I can kip on the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "We've slept in the same bed plenty of times. I'm going to go change." She grabbed her bag and went into the tiny en suite bathroom.

Hesitantly, she removed her traveling cloak and her t-shirt and jeans that she had pulled on with urgency. She folded everything neatly with a flick of her wand, then looked at herself appraisingly in small mirror above the sink.

Her face looked pale and wan, and she had shadows under her eyes. Her hair, up in its tight ponytail, made her look severe and stern. She reached up, unwinding the hair band that held her hair up. Her hair fell around her shoulders in thin waves, a combination of her mother's straight blonde locks and her father's wavy hair he always wore pulled back into a ponytail. _There,_ she thought. _That's better._

Against her practical nature, she had brought two sets of pajamas: one, a very matronly set of pajamas and the other, a slinky black nightie with a lacy neckline. Neither seemed appropriate for this occasion. She had to stifle a laugh. _The occasion where you're staying the night with your ex-boyfriend so you can make sure a dangerous werewolf Death Eater is still in prison._ She dug into her bag and found a plain white t-shirt, long enough to be a nightie, and shrugged it on. She quickly brushed her teeth and went back into the room with trepidation.

Teddy didn't even look at her. He was engrossed in the book she'd set on the bed. She cleared her throat; he looked up, his eyes slowly gaining focus. She was surprisingly pleased to see the tips of his hair turning a bright orange shade after he registered what she was wearing. She knew he had always liked her hair down. She quickly hopped into bed, smoothing the covers over herself. He turned away, back to the book.

"Find anything interesting?" she said softly.

"Some," he replied. "It says Greyback didn't attack for no reason. His attacks were usually political in nature, usually to punish someone or to defeat an enemy. He didn't really do random attacks. Too good for that, I suppose."

"What's the reason behind attacking Muggle-borns?" Victoire said. "What are the political reasons there? The war is over. Voldemort is dead."

"We don't know that it's Greyback even doing the attacks," Teddy said firmly. "We can't assume it's him until we _know_ it's him. Right now, all signs point to it not being him. And Voldemort might be dead, but his followers are still very much out there."

"Teddy," she said quietly. "What if he's not there? Greyback?"

Teddy looked at her now, her face fearful for the first time in his memory.

"Greyback's not going to go looking for people he's already attacked. What would be the point in that? _Oi, here I am to check out my handiwork_." He paused. "Your dad's not in any danger. He was fine before-and he'll be fine now." Teddy hoped he sounded reassuring.

She shrugged. "Was he fine, though? I think my mum saved him from himself," she said. "Without her, I don't think he wouldn't have been able to...deal with it." Victoire paused. "

"Greyback will be there," Teddy said. "We would have known if he'd left. Harry would have known."

She looked at him now, blinking sleepily. "You should always keep your hair like that," she murmured softly. "Blue. I like it. I've always liked it. Since we were little."

He was surprised at this admission. She used to tease him about being a Metamorphagus, about how you could tell exactly how he was feeling through his hair.

His heart was hammering against his chest, and he could tell his hair was changing, turning yellow, then orange and then a deep shade of violet.

"Vic..." he said, but she didn't reply. He looked over, and she was asleep, her hand curled against her cheek. He sighed, set the book aside and slid under the covers, too. The bed was small for two people, but Teddy maintained a respectful distance between himself and Victoire. He watched her sleep, the bluish light from the window falling gently across her face.

 _Maybe_ , he thought as he fell asleep. _This adventure will be worth it._

* * *

**Author's Note(s):**

a) This chapter contains quotes from "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." All quotes directly from Deathly Hallows belong to J.K. Rowling!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

_When the snows fall, and the white wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives._

_\- George R. R. Martin_

* * *

When Teddy woke up again, Victoire was already awake, moving quietly around the room. Her cloak rustled softly as she moved. She was putting things in her bag, checking her watch, smoothing her winter cloak, fidgeting with her fake wedding ring.

"Hey," he said, pushing the covers back, his body consumed with all all encompassing heat. Victoire had stoked the fire, and it was roaring in the fireplace. "You know it's mid-July, right?" He sat up, rubbish his eyes.

"Sorry," she said, sheepishly. "I never could get that spell right." She indicated toward her wand, sticking out of her cloak pocket. With a swift movement, she removed the wand from her pocket and whispered, " _Aguamenti!"_ A single stream of water spurted from Victoire's wand and into the fireplace. The fire was quenched in seconds.

"I'll start getting ready," he said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He was still wearing his jeans from yesterday. They felt stiff and uncomfortable against his legs.

He went into the tiny bathroom, shut the door and glanced into the mirror. His hair was a pale blue today, but he didn't want to stand out on this day. He screwed up his face in a pained expression and the sky blue locks turned a sandy blonde. The last thing they needed was someone spotting a blue haired man on a broomstick flying above the North Sea.

He changed quickly, brushing his teeth and stuffing his slept in clothes in his bag.

When he came back into the room, Victoire was sitting on the bed, her eyes closed meditatively.

"Er-" he muttered, moving as quietly as he could.

Her eyes opened, glancing around cursorily.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing her broomstick and angling her head toward

He followed her out, his Cleansweep 50 in his hand.

"Hello," he said to the witch at the front desk. "We'd like to do a tour of the island, and we were hoping for an area map. Do you have one?" He felt Victoire's hand slip into the crook of his elbow.

The witch shook her head sadly, handing the map over to Teddy. "There's an awful lot of fog today," she said. "You won't be able to see much."

He had been relying on clear weather. They needed to be able to see the massive fortress that was Azkaban from the air.

"We were actually looking for-" he started, but felt Victoire's grip tightening and pulling him back into a secluded corner.

"We can use _Point me_ ," she said, raising her eyebrows. "You can't tell her we're going to Azkaban!"

"You have to know which direction you're going," he said. " _Point me_ only points you due north."

She shrugged. "We'll figure it out. We have the map. Let's go _now_."

His stomach gave a loud grumble. "I'm hungry," he said, his eyes drifting to the overflowing breakfast buffet. "Let's have breakfast."

"Well, I'm glad to see that the possibility of meeting Fenrir Greyback hasn't put you off your appetite," Victoire said, breaking from Teddy and walking toward the buffet.

He grinned, grabbing a sweet bun and biting into it. She looked at him grimly, her mouth set in firm line.

"Eat something," he said, gesturing toward the abundance at the buffet. "You'll feel better." She took a bun, chewing it absentmindedly, like she didn't even taste it.

"We can do this," she said quietly, placing a hand on Teddy's arm. "I just...have a feeling. Do you trust me?" She stared up at him, her wide eyes unblinking. He looked back at her face, and instantly knew he would agree with whatever she said.

He nodded. "I trust you." He placed his own hand on top of hers, gave it a little squeeze and then hoisted his broom up. "Let's go."

They stepped outside, Teddy nodding briefly to the witch at the desk as he closed the door behind them. Victoire was glancing up and down the lane. She jerked her head over to a dumpy little shed behind the inn. He followed her back there, where they mounted their brooms and kicked off hard from the ground.

Victoire gave a little laugh as she gained height, checking behind her to make sure Teddy was following. He was grinning at her as he leaned down low over his broom and shot up past her.

It had been Teddy who had taught her to fly. Her mother, too nervous on a broomstick, had refused to teach her, and her father had refused to disobey his wife, promising to teach her when she was older. When Victoire was six years old, she and Teddy spent the summer with Nana Weasley. Early one morning, Teddy had taken her out to the large field behind The Burrow and coached her in his gentle way, applauding when her broom left the ground like a proud parent. She had only hovered off the ground at first, her toes skimming the dewy grass, but within a few weeks, she was zipping around the countryside on a full sized broomstick. They had spent the rest of the summer flying over Ottery St. Catchpole until Victoire had flown directly into a tree and broken her arm. Teddy had run, terrified, all the way to The Burrow while Victoire cradled her fracture.

They'd both gotten into a lot of trouble, and Teddy had refused to take Victoire flying again until they had enough Weasley cousins to fill a Quidditch team.

Now, they flew together as equals. He soared down next to her as she held her wand in the palm of her hand. " _Point me_ ," she said to the wand, and it spun in the palm of her hand, pointing just to her left.

She looked at Teddy and they veered slightly left.

The cloud cover was like thick white cotton, and the witch at the inn had been right: it was _extremely_ foggy. Teddy would periodically dip below the cloud line to make sure they were on the right track, needing to go northeast. Before long, they were both freezing and soaked. Victoire had yanked on a knitted hat and slipped on gloves awkwardly as she flew.

They had been flying for nearly an hour when Teddy dipped below the clouds again. Below him, as if from a dream, a monolithic structure appeared not far below them. The base of the massive structure was surrounded by craggy black rock that had been beaten smooth by centuries of persistent battering by the waves.

He pulled his broom back up, soaring to Victoire and turning his broom toward her. 'We're here!" he yelled. "Look!" Victoire followed him below, her eyes trailing his hand. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw the prison. She angled her broom downward and shot toward the roof, speeding past Teddy.

"Jesus Christ," Teddy muttered, angling his broom similarly and following her. They landed together on top of the eerie structure. The roof of Azkaban prison was a flat desolate courtyard, surrounded by high walls with an eerie shimmer hovering several feet above them. Teddy looked up at the undulating ceiling. He could see the clouded sky above him, and suddenly understood the shimmer. "We can't leave," he said to Victoire. "Not by broom."

"What?" She spun around to face him. He pointed to the weird translucence above them, and her eyes trailed skyward. "What do you mean?"

"It's an Anti-Escape Jinx."

"Then how were we able to get in?"

"It doesn't care who gets in," Teddy replied. "But we'll need to figure out something else to leave this bloody place."

"Why couldn't we see it from above?" Her voice pitched to a panicked hysteria.

"Don't need to. It's only for those inside."

"Bloody hell," she replied, sagging against the wall behind her.

"We'll have to find out if we can Apparate," Teddy said reassuringly. "Harry comes here all the time. I'm sure he Apparates in."

Her face paled, but nodded. "Okay. Part two," she said to Teddy, looking at him expectantly as they stowed their brooms in the corner of the vast courtyard, crowding together to block the buffeting wind.

He nodded, clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. His long hair looked like it was shrinking back into his head; it got darker and showed little specks of gray. His eyes went from their brown to a bright emerald green. Within moments, he was someone else.

"Hi," he said, his voice changed into one that was strangely familiar yet alien at the same time.

Victoire's eyes went wide, and despite their current circumstances, a grin broke out on her face.

"Hi, Uncle Harry."

* * *

"Mr. Potter! We weren't expecting you today, sir."

Teddy, looking a little too comfortable being Harry Potter, looked perilously down at the little man at the desk.

"Well, we don't always owl before we come to inspect the prison, do we, Mr. Dawlish?"

"N-no, sir," the fidgety wizard stammered, looking abashed.

"We'll just be going then," Teddy said, sweeping past the security desk. Victoire trotted after him, trying to look at innocuous as she could.

"Mr. Potter!" called Mr. Dawlish. "This young lady-she must wait here. She doesn't have the security clearance, sir."

"This is my niece," he said, gesturing toward Victoire. She opened her mouth to speak, but Teddy interrupted her. "Most unfortunately, she only speaks French. Part-veela, you see?"

Victoire looked furiously at Teddy while both men appraised her part-veela features. She shifted uncomfortably in place. Mr. Dawlish didn't seem to notice her face, his eyes drifting lecherously over her body. She grabbed the edges of her cloak, pulling them in close to her body.

"Anyway, she's training to be an Auror and I invited her to accompany me on this trip."

"Ver-very well, sir," Mr. Dawlish relented, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Teddy swept past Mr. Dawlish, Victoire in tow. They walked swiftly down the corridor until they came upon some steps. He mounted them, but felt Victoire grasp his wrist, gently pulling him back.

"Vic," he hissed, wresting his arm from her grip. "I'm Harry Fucking Potter! You're my niece-you can't keep grabbing me." She reeled back, startled at his tone.

"How do you know he's up there?" she asked. "Greyback."

"They keep the most dangerous prisoners on the top floors," he said, not entirely sure that he was right. Had Harry said something of the sort offhandedly at home? The confidence in his voice seemed to convince Victoire, who mounted the narrow stone staircase after him.

They ascended the stairs in silence. Periodically, they passed an arched doorway, indicating that they'd ascended another story. The slim staircase was lit by magical torches, the warm yellow light reflecting off the almost white stone, creating the impression that the stairs were much wider than they appeared.

After nearly an hour, they emerged at the top of the stairs onto a landing. A massive window let in late morning light, and a corridor stretched out ominously before them. Teddy and Victoire, huffing and puffing from the ascent, collapsed on opposite sides of the corridor, leaning against the walls as they caught their breaths.

"I—can't—breathe," Teddy wheezed, clutching a stitch in his side. She said nothing, taking deep breaths and wiping a sheen of sweat from her upper lip.

"This is it," she whispered, suddenly nervous. _What was I thinking, coming here? Why didn't we tell Uncle Harry?_

"Let's go," he said, standing up and extending a hand to Victoire. She grabbed it, pulling herself up. She was vaguely reminded of a time when she had fallen and spilled her books everywhere, and Teddy had helped her up exactly like this.

The corridor in front of them was lit with more torches, but the walls and floor were made of a smooth black stone. The stone reflected the dim light, creating the illusion that it was much brighter in this vast, dim fortress. The corridor was lined with cells, with bars made of the same smooth, black stone. There were, she noticed, no guards.

Victoire turned suddenly to Teddy, a panicked expression on her face. "Teddy," she hissed. "I'm not...ready."

"Me either," he said, "but Harry Potter is." His face, looking like Harry Potter, still had a very Teddy Lupin quality to it: a kindness behind the eyes, a grim determination, a certain haunted look. With a start, Victoire realized that maybe her uncle _always_ looked this way, and Teddy had spent so much time with his godfather that _he_ looked like Harry, not the other way around.

Teddy strode toward the cells, Victoire following reluctantly. His boots made a _clack-clack_ noise on the shiny black floor. She followed, her footsteps silent.

Victoire was startled to see that within the cells, people were _living_. Man, woman and creature of every kind resided, their cells small, but each personalized to the inhabitant. Many were reading books, sleeping, and-she noted with embarrassment-using the toilets. Others were gazing at the photos on their walls, some crying silently. The prisoners looked up at them as they walked by, and their eyes narrowed. Victoire understood why: Harry Potter had been the head of the Auror department for over a decade now, and he was personally responsible for many of them being here.

 _These are bad people,_ she said to herself, trying to convince herself of the fact. _They tortured, maimed and killed others using Dark Magic._

"Well, lookie who it is," said a drawling sneer. "Little Harry Potter, come to pay us a visit." Victoire glanced over to the cell that held the voice. Her stomach dropped. Looking out from the cell's bars were a pair of familiar gray eyes. _Scorpius's eyes._

"Lucius," Teddy said in Harry's clipped, professional tone. "I see you haven't been moved for good behavior."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Is my grandson still spending all his days with your son, Potter?"

"Scorpius and Albus are still best friends, if that's what you're asking. We see a lot of Scorpius," Teddy said, taunting Lucius, and Victoire could see that Teddy was relishing taunting Lucius Malfoy.

"The boy is foolish," Lucius sneered. "His obsession with your blood traitor family is a phase, and will be corrected the next time I see my son. The boy needs discipline."

Teddy smirked. "I see Draco hasn't told you the good news about Scorpius's new girlfriend," he said.

"Girlfriend?" Lucius furrowed his aged brow.

"Yes." Teddy's smile widened almost cruelly. "The boy is seeing none other than Rose Weasley. You might know of her. She is the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

Lucius's thin mouth fell open, and his voice came out in a hiss. " _No."_

"Ah, yes, Lucius. Not getting many visitors these days, are you? Draco stopped coming round?"

Lucius's scream of fury echoed off the walls. "How- _dare-_ you."

Teddy stepped closer to the front of the cell as shouts erupted all around them, the people in the cells agitated by Lucius's scream.

"Tell me, did it feel good to hear that?" he whispered, standing almost nose to nose with Lucius. "Tell me, Lucius, is it nice being in here with all your friends? With your best Death Eater pals, like Greyback?" Lucius sank onto his little cot, turned his back on Teddy and stayed silent.

"We need to go," Victoire whispered, grabbing the back of Teddy's robes and yanking him back.

The prisoners had suddenly all realized that Harry Potter was in their wing, and they were all jeering at him, shouting insults through the bars.

"Fuck you, Potter!"

"When I get out, I'm coming for your whole family, Potter!"

Then, suddenly, they heard a low growl. "Who's your friend, Potter?"

With a leap of her heart, Victoire turned to her right to see a pair of glowing gray and yellow eyes and sharp teeth grinning at her.

_Greyback._

She'd of course seen pictures of the creature who had maimed her dad, but being in his presence felt like a surreal dream. She felt Teddy's body stiffen next to her, and she wanted to grab his hand but of course, grabbing Harry Potter's hand wasn't exactly the kind of thing she would have done under normal circumstances.

"Greyback. You look...ugly," Teddy said offhandedly, in an almost amused tone. If he felt any of Victoire's revulsion and horror, he didn't show it.

Victoire had to agree with Teddy's rather rude assessment. Greyback's gray hair was matted and hung limply around his face in enormous tangled locks. His eyes were gray and yellow, but where his eyes should have been white, they were totally shot with blood. One of his canine teeth was cracked and yellowed. On his body, he wore the traditional Azkaban prisoners' uniform, but his sleeves were torn, revealing massive muscular arms that were covered in scars and some freshly scabbed wounds. He had a heavy bandage around the crook of his elbow, and fresh bite marks on his hands.

Greyback sniggered, gazing into Teddy's eyes. "Your little friend," he said, his eyes flicking to Victoire. "She looks...yummy. Mind if I have a little taste?" He licked his lips. Victoire reeled back, plunging her hand into the pocket of her robes, gripping her wand tightly.

Teddy stepped in front of Victoire, his body half blocking her.

"Leave her be," he snarled. "I'm here to talk to you."

Victoire stepped forward now, clearing her throat. " _We're_ here to talk to you. Are there others, like you-out there? Right now?" she asked him clearly, ignoring Teddy's hand on her shoulder.

"There are always others," Greyback said, slouching away from the bars, taking a seat on his cot. "Others like me will always be out there, despite wizards' attempts to quash us."

"But after the last war, the werewolves went underground," she said. "The others haven't attacked anyone since there.'

"They are still underground," Greyback growled. "They live meagerly, traveling together in packs. Rats and other small animals aren't missed from this world, so we eat them to stay alive."

"Then how are people at St. Mungo's still turning into werewolves?" Teddy interrupted. "If your kind is still underground?"

"There are ways," said Greyback. "Other ways." His face did not indicate that he found this news surprising in the least. Rather, he leaned against the bars of the cell casually, examining his long, dingy fingernails.

"I know about sleeping under a full moon and the other ways," Teddy thought, remembering what Hannah had told him.

"How else can wizards and witches become werewolves?" Victoire asked, trying to keep the desperation in her voice to a minimum. She thought sadly of Mrs. Garrido and her sweet husband, lying in a pool of blood.

"They can drink the water from the footprint of a werewolf," Teddy said suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "But how would you get the water to that many people?"

Greyback's yellow eyes suddenly got curious. "How many people?" he said quietly, almost like a quiet growl.

"At least a hundred by now," Victoire said, now sounding completely, totally desperate for answers.

"A hundred?" The werewolf's ears were perked up now, his mouth drawing into a smile, his eyes suddenly taking on a knowing glint.

"What do you know, Greyback?" Teddy said, drawing his wand and pointing it at the werewolf. The other prisoners, all listening intently to their exchange, suddenly moved away from the bars of their cells at the sight of the wand.

"What do I know?" He gave a rougish shrug. "Nothing. I am just your prisoner, a discarded memento of the past."

"Tell me!" Teddy had by now reached between the bars and grabbed Greyback's gray prisoner robes. "Tell me now." He pointed his wand threateningly, but Greyback stared impassively.

"There are others…" he began, "...like me and unlike me. With my powers and the full powers of a witch or wizard."

"But werewolved aren't allowed wands," Teddy said, shaking the front of Greyback's robes.

"I said _unlike_ me, too, you foolish man," Greyback said, trying to wrest free of Teddy's grip. "Like me and unlike me."

Then something dawned on Victoire, looking into Greyback's yellow eyes, his devilish grin.

"Wait…" she said, putting her hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Do werewolves...have kids?"

Greyback let out a barking laugh. "Now you're getting somewhere, sweet," he said.

"But-you don't usually...," Teddy said, his astonishment slackening his hand, allowing Greyback to shake free of his grip. He remembered hearing his father in the Pensieve, talking to Harry. _My kind don't usually breed._

"Some do. The werewolf Lupin did, as you well know, Potter," Greyback said. "Sometimes the genes of a powerful witch or wizard can suppress the gene, like in the Lupin child." At this, Teddy felt an unexpected surge of pride toward his maternal line. "But Remus Lupin was not unique. Us lycanthropes feel the same stir of the loins you feel. We breed to keep our lines alive. We still feel the urge."

"Would a half-werewolf be welcome into the pack?" Victoire asked.

"Certainly. If they showed the right signs. Didn't try to blend in with witches and wizards."

"But what if they _are_ trying to blend in with witches and wizards?" Teddy asked.

"Bingo." Greyback receded back to his bed, proceeded to pretend to clean his nails.

"So you're saying-a half werewolf is living among wizards and turning Muggle-borns into werewolves?" Victoire said, making sure she was hearing him right.

"Muggle-borns, eh?" Greyback said, observing his fingernails casually. "Shame, that is." He grinned at them, showcasing his yellowed, broken teeth again.

"But-who?"

"Who else?" Greyback said, now laying back in his bed with his hands behind his head. "My heir."

"Oi!" yelled a voice from down the corridor, but Teddy and Victoire didn't hear it. They leaned in closer to the cells, their faces pressed up to the bars now.

"An heir?" Teddy whispered to Greyback. "Who? _Who?"_

Greyback let out a laugh like a bark, and the other prisoners began to laugh along with him. The sound rose to a fever pitch, like one endless scream. Victoire covered her ears, star in horror at Greyback. Her eyes swiveled to Teddy, who was shouting over the din.

" _Who? Who is it?"_ His face was screwed up with rage and effort.

And then there was instantaneous silence for the briefest of moment before…

Footsteps running toward them, a voice shouting, "Victoire! Get away from there!"

Victoire wheeled around toward the voice, and saw Bill Weasley and the real Harry Potter sprinting down the corridor toward them.

She turned back toward Teddy. " _Shit."_

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"So- _bloody_ irresponsible!" Harry shouted at the two young people seated on the bed inside The Invisible Bed  & Breakfast. "No note. Neither of you showed up to work-you should have seen your mother when she saw the note you'd left at St. Mungo's, Vic!"

Victoire sat quietly, the thought of her mother's panicked face suddenly swimming into her head. She shifted guiltily on the bed, swallowing back at the lump forming in her throat. _Of course,_ she thought. _Of course they owled my parents when I fainted at the hospital._

"And of course when we realized you'd gone, we know Teddy must have been with you!" Harry rounded on Teddy. "You're an adult. I've taught you to trust me. Why didn't you come to me? Why come to Azkaban prison?"

"We just had to make sure before recruiting _you_ , of all fucking people," Teddy said. "You're a little _busy_."

"Watch your language, Ted," Harry said in a warning voice.

"Sorry."

There was a silence. Victoire looked up hopefully at her uncle, but there was a combined worry and fury etched in every line of his face. He looked back at her, shaking his head. She turned to look at her father. He was leaning against the desk in the tiny room at The Invisible, looking just as worried and furious as Harry.

"We know what's happening at St. Mungo's, Vic," he said, trying to be gentle. "And you were right-what you said would happen is now happening to most of those patients." Her eyes became round.

"But it's not the full moon!" she exclaimed. "How can they have transformed now? It's not for another two weeks."

"I know. But there is a change happening in them that the Healers haven't ever seen before. They've cancelled all classes until they learn more about the situation."

"I'm the only person who knows exactly what's happening!" she burst out. "I'm the only one who thought to come to see Greyback."

"Oh, you think you're the only one, eh?" Harry glared at her. "You think no other Auror thought to ask the alpha of all the werewolves how this could be happening?"

"I got there first," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I put it all together before you-before _anyone._ "

Harry had to smile. He knew that stubbornness well, the Weasley trait that his own children showed.

"You did," he said gently. "But we've got this under control."

"Fine." She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

Bill Weasley pushed himself off the desk and finally spoke. "Vic," he said, standing up. "Let's go. I'm taking you back to Shell Cottage."

"W-what?" She suddenly stood up, looking from her father to Harry. "You're kicking me out?" Her eyes looked at Harry, accusing him without words.

"We just want to spend a few days with you, that's all," Bill cut in smoothly. "Your mother is worried sick about you."

"You are always welcome in our house-and when your classes start back up, I hope you'll come back and stay with us again," Harry said.

She could feel herself starting to pout, the spoiled little girl she had worked so hard to suppress coming up, bubbling up like hot vomit. She swallowed it down and slowly sank back onto the bed next to Teddy, grateful for his solid presence next to her. She almost forgot to be mad at him.

"And _you_ ," Harry said, his eyes on Teddy. "You are an adult, and I cannot discipline you. But we _will_ talk later." He turned, strode toward the door and left.

"Get your stuff," Bill said, heading toward the door. "I'll let you…" He gestured aimlessly. "...say goodbye." Then he was gone.

Victoire was trembling next to Teddy, her hands twisting anxiously in her lap. Teddy turned to her, trying to console her, but she scooted away from him.

"An heir?" she whispered. "Greyback has an heir. A child."

He nodded. "The Aurors will get him, Vic," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Will they? What about my patients? My school!" The full realization of her actions and their potential consequences came tumbling upon her. "What if they kick me out of the program because of what I did?" She got up and started pacing the room. "I didn't tell anyone! I just left, like-"

"Like Harry would have done?" Teddy was trying to suppress a smile.

"Yes," she said, pausing and blinking back tears. "And now he's kicking me out of his house."

"He's not."

"He _is_." She felt angry, betrayed by Harry, betrayed by Teddy _again_. "Well, this is good news for you," she said suddenly to Teddy, turning her back toward him. "Now you can have your cozy family dinners back."

* * *

After Victoire had left with her dad, Teddy sulked down from his room at The Invisible to find Harry. They Apparated back to London quickly, with Harry giving Teddy a generous dose of the silent treatment.

When they arrived back at Harry's house, Harry finally broke his silence.

"Let's talk," he said, calling over his shoulder. "In the dining room." Teddy followed his godfather morosely, knowing that he was going to be fully interrogated.

He sat down in a squashy chair across from Harry. The bright green eyes observed him carefully.

"I know what you're going to ask," Teddy started, "and the answer is no."

"You actually don't know what I was going to ask," Harry said, "but as always, I am very sorry to hear that you and Victoire haven't reconciled. I've always liked you two together." He looked sorry, too.

"So what do you want to know?" Teddy muttered, absentmindedly picking a long dark hair off his jeans.

"Why didn't you come to me?" Harry said. "I know why _Victoire_ didn't—she doesn't know me like you do. But you know me."

Teddy hesitated, then looked into his godfather's green eyes. He looked kind and filled with understanding, something that Teddy had grown to expect from him.

"It's been...weird," he started. "With her and I, I mean."

"Believe it or not, we've noticed."

"This was the first time she was even able to _look_ at me since...last year." He paused. "It made me think it would be ok."

"If you went with her on this fishing expedition?"

"Yeah, but there are other reasons, too!" Teddy said heatedly. "There are real people in danger—you saw them, yeah? Well, she had a hunch and I went with her because it seemed like a good hunch. I got a tip about it at the paper, too. It's too coincidental!"

"We have people looking into it. The Aurors are questioning Greyback now."

"He has a child," Teddy said. Harry's eyebrows went way up, then back down. "His _heir."_

Harry nodded.

"I have always thought of you as my son," he said suddenly. His voice was steady, but his eyes were averted. "And I hope that you have felt as welcome in this family and this house as my own sons. As my surrogate son, I'm going to have to insist on honesty."

"If you think James and Albus are totally honest with you, you're nuts," Teddy said. Harry smiled.

"Very well," he said. "Tell me: why didn't you come to me?"

"I...wanted to be with her. I thought I could make it right between us if I just followed her lead."

"Ah." Harry paused.

"I should have told you," Teddy said, bowing his head. "I'm sorry. I should have sent my Patronus immediately. But...I didn't think anything would happen. I thought we'd get there, see Greyback and she'd be satisfied with that information. And maybe...we could be friends again."

Both men were silent. Harry then cleared his throat and said, "I do understand that. What it's like...to feel that way. To go along with someone hoping it will make things better between you."

Teddy felt embarrassed suddenly. He had talked to Harry before about girls, about sex and being safe. But he had never seen this side of his godfather, this raw, vulnerable man with the lightning scar. Teddy had the sudden realization that Harry was, like him, a war orphan. He'd known this fact before, this similarity between them, but he'd never connected it to this man in front of him. He imagined Harry's worry after finding out Teddy had gone, worrying that another member of his family was in danger.

"I'm sorry," Teddy said in a low voice. "I'll...be honest with you. From now on."

Harry smiled, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses. "I have to say," he said. "Your impression of me was pretty good, right down to the scar. Where'd you get the glasses?"

"Victoire nicked them from your study," Teddy said, grinning.

"That girl...reminds me of someone."

"Fleur?"

Harry smiled. "No. Me."

* * *

The deep silences that followed Victoire around at Shell Cottage almost had her wishing that she had stayed at Azkaban. Her parents were displeased at her behavior over the last few weeks after receiving a full report from Aunt Ginny at how reclusive Victoire had become, working late shifts at St. Mungo's and eating her dinners alone in her bedroom.

Victoire didn't bother to tell off her father who commented that she hadn't been seeing her friends and that's why she felt the need to go off on her "little adventure", as everyone had taken to calling it.

She didn't feel that it was very adventurous; Uncle Harry had stopped by to speak to her and let her know that the Auror office was following every lead to figure out how to help the patients at St. Mungo's. She had nodded mutely, her expression guarded as she seethed below the surface at him.

On the second morning she was back at Shell Cottage, she had received an owl from Avi.

_Vic-_

_If you didn't want to go out again, you should have just said so instead of pretending to faint to avoid me._

_In all seriousness, if you hadn't left the note, more people could have been harmed. All the affected patients are being kept apart for now. I'm home until classes resume. Are you free to meet in London before your family goes to Hogwarts for the Hospital Wing dedication ceremony?_

_I want to see you._

_Avi_

Victoire had realized with a start that Uncle Harry's hospital wing dedication ceremony at Hogwarts was in a week, and that she probably should tell Avi she had been kicked out of her uncle's house.

She wrote a terse response promising to meet him in London the week after the dedication ceremony at Hogwarts, wondering how she could convince her parents to let her escape their watchful eyes.

After a week of her self-imposed exile, her siblings returned from the Burrow and the cottage by the sea became a little more lively.

"Want to go down to the beach?" Dominique asked Victoire one day. "There's a cute boy who I've been talking to there."

Victoire glanced at Dominique from her bed. She was reading _The Daily Prophet_ absently, having read the current page five times, her mind elsewhere. Dominique was leaning casually against the doorway, wearing a black and white patterned bathing suit and sandals, looking ready for a day at the beach.

"I'm reading," Victoire said. Dominique crossed the room, flopping down at the foot of the tiny bed.

"You're reading the _news_?" Dominique looked aghast. "Since when have you been interested in the news?"

"I care about the news," Victoire said defensively, folding the newspaper down.

Dominique looked suspiciously at Victoire. Victoire had been reading the newspaper daily, scouring each page for a mention of Mrs. Garrido or others. As far as Victoire knew, the paper hadn't reported any of that. She began to wonder what Teddy even did over there if he wasn't writing about this.

Victoire sighed, sitting up in her bed. "I suppose Dad told you you to keep me occupied."

Dominique shrugged. "He said nothing of the sort." She paused. "But Gran told me to keep you company."

"Right." Victoire raised her eyebrows. She stared down at her hands, still wearing the thin gold band she'd made. She vaguely wondered if Teddy was still wearing his. "Well, strangely enough, I can't find an excuse that will appease you so, fine. I'll go."

"Yes!" Dominique said. "I didn't want to go alone!"

"And here I thought you wanted my sparkling company," Victoire grumbled, hoisting herself up and going to rummage in her drawers for her bathing suit.

Dominique left the room, saying, "I'll meet you outside," before closing the door firmly. Victoire pulled on her favorite blue bathing suit, the one with tiny white polka dots on it, yanked on a thin t-shirt over it and slipped her feet into her sandals.

As they strolled down the sandy path to the beach, Dominique slid her hand into the crook of Victoire's elbow

"I'm sorry that you're back here," she said gently, giving her older sister's hand a quick squeeze.

Victoire looked over at her little sister. Dominique had always looked more like a Weasley than a Delacour. She was taller than Victoire by a full head, with a cheerful round face and long red hair that cascaded down her back in thick curls. She wore odd, bright clothes and was never afraid of a challenge. Victoire always admired Dom's sheer inability to care about other people's opinions.

"Thanks," Victoire replied glumly. "I never thought I'd be back here. My life is...such a mess."

Dominique shrugged. "You'll be able to go back soon," she said reassuringly.

"I'm not so sure," Victoire said, and felt tears spring to her eyes. "You'll be gone this September, and then it'll just be me, Maman and Dad again."

"You'll be out of here before then. I can _feel_ it."

Since she was a little girl, Dominique had been gifted. She possessed not just the usual magical ability for a young witch but also had an uncanny ability to _feel_ the future. She had been a model Divination student at Hogwarts, and was planning to spend the upcoming year in Romania, studying among the most accomplished Seers in the world.

"I hope you're right."

"I am," Dominique said reassuringly.

As they approached the nearby beach, they saw it was littered with families from the village and other families on holiday. Tinworth, the nearby village, was a quaint little town whose local economy relied on holidaygoers. The village was well-known for its many eccentricities, and was embraced by the locals as a place with an unusual personality. The many strange phenomena that happened there, such as the shower of shooting stars every May 2nd, were chalked up to the charm of the village. In truth, Tinworth was one of the few places in Britain where Muggles and wizardkind lived and worked together harmoniously, with the Muggles living in ignorance of the true nature of their curious neighbors.

Victoire and her siblings had grown up alongside their Muggle neighbors, going to primary school in the village until they were eleven and old enough to go to Hogwarts. Most of Victoire's childhood friends had left the village in pursuit of university or love, adding to her sense of loneliness when she stayed at Shell Cottage.

"There he is!" Dominique squealed, pointing to a tall, dark boy with curly black hair who was jumping off a large rock into the water with a group of friends.

Victoire pushed her sunglasses up, peering into the distance. "I don't recognize him," she said. "Is he from here?"

Dom shook her head. "He's visiting with his family. He's from Canada!" She grinned, pulling Victoire by her elbow toward the rocks.

"You go," Victoire said, untangling her arm from Dom's grip. "I'm going to try to get a tan."

She spread out her beach towel away from the crowd and lay back on it, feeling the hot sun prickle her skin. She hadn't had much time to herself as her mother had kept her busy with chores around the cottage. She closed her eyes, listening to the shouts and chatter from the beach. Before long, her thoughts drifted to her visit to Azkaban. Greyback's glowing eyes, his snarling mouth and Teddy's warm hand on hers had given her a bizarre sense of clarity.

_Greyback has an heir._

She hadn't told anyone this. Even when she spoke with Bianca earlier this week, she had only cursorily mentioned her visit to the most notorious wizarding prison in the world.

 _An heir._ _Who?_

It could be _anyone_. Anyone. He could be here, on this beach, and she wouldn't know him from another Canadian tourist.

Victoire opened her eyes and glanced over to where Dominique was. She was standing atop the high rock, the dark boy behind her. With a scream of joy, she leapt from the rock, her long hair a bright red banner against the sky, and landed with a splash into the cold waves. Victoire smiled, remembering some summers ago when she and Teddy took turns leaping from the same rock into the ocean. Later, he had asked her to move in with him when she graduated from Hogwarts, and she had agreed, kissing him fiercely in the sand.

Though they had never explicitly discussed it, Victoire knew Teddy thought about their bizarre connection through the events of the Second Wizarding War. Both their fathers were Greyback's victims, and Victoire herself was born on the second anniversary of Teddy's parents' deaths. Her mother had named her Victoire. _Victory_. But when she became old enough to understand what had happened on May 2nd at the Battle of Hogwarts, it didn't feel like a victory to her. One month-old Teddy had become an orphan that day. Her Uncle Fred, whom she had never met, died that day. What was so victorious about that?

Victoire knew she and Teddy were linked by the war, though neither of them remembered it. They were the Warborn, the moniker given to the children born during and in the three years after the war. They saw the war's impact in their family members. Andromeda, the widow who lost her daughter but gained a grandson. Victoire's father, who lost his youthful looks but gained a family. Gran and Grandad Weasley, who lost their son but more children soon filled their lives. Their losses were permanent and painful, and Victoire remembered her early birthdays, filled with joy but with tears, too.

Her and Teddy's connection, Victoire mused, had everything to do with Greyback and the war. Nothing felt accidental in their relationship, and when they had first kissed at the Quidditch World Cup, Victoire had felt like she had finally come home.

Even now, their kindred bond continued to bring them together. Teddy receiving the mysterious tip, dropping it only for Victoire to find it after caring for her patients was just one of the ways the universe was pushing them together as it always had.

Her eyes flew open. _The universe is pushing us together-unless it's not the universe._

She suddenly sat up, her mind racing. She looked over. Dominique's bright red head was bobbing in the water, laughing at something the curly-haired Canadian was saying. Victoire looked toward the cottage, and back to Dominique. She yanked her t-shirt back on, wadded up her towel into a ball and ran across the beach and onto the path toward Shell Cottage, her heart pounding in her throat.

* * *

Teddy couldn't focus on Hannah.

His week had been a blur. Returning from Azkaban and throwing himself into his work didn't erase his last memory of Victoire, being escorted by her dad into a Floo fireplace, her eyes tired and scared.

"Are you here?" Hannah's voice cut through his daydream.

"Huh?" He blinked, staring across the table at her. She stared back, an imperceptible expression on her face.

"Clearly not. Do you want to reschedule?" She gently pushed her plate away, the food half-eaten.

"No," he said firmly, forcing himself back to their scheduled date. "I'm sorry. It's been a...week."

" _Tell_ me about it," she said, sighing and leaning back, clearly pleased that he was engaging her. "If you want...we can go back to your place."

He grinned at her now. "Sure." He paid for their meal, and they walked, his arm slung over her shoulders, back to his flat.

The moment they stepped in the door, Hannah kissed Teddy with a cold ferocity. Her mouth was cold, even though it was warm outside. Her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons as he made to remove his jacket.

"Wait," she whispered, moving away from him. His brain was foggy as he watched her unbutton her dress and remove it, letting it fall to the floor. She turned and walked toward the bedroom, and Teddy obediently followed.

* * *

Victoire walked through the halls at St. Mungo's, hoping that none of her instructors would recognize her. She had tucked her distinctive silvery blonde locks into a cap atop her head, trying to hide herself so she could see for herself what was happening with the affected patients at St. Mungo's. It was nearly dusk, and very few people were walking the halls. The hospital, normally alive with a steady hum of activity, now felt extremely tense and quiet.

Escaping Shell Cottage had been easier than she thought-her father had been away for work, and her mother was in the village, visiting with a friend. Her little brother Louis, ever an adolescent boy, was still asleep. She had simply Apparated from her bedroom to a Tube station near St. Mungo's, but not before packing a backpack of her Healer's books.

As she strode down the hall of the fifth floor, she found herself approaching a very solid-looking door. "Only trained personnel allowed past this point!" a sign read. Victoire sighed, took out her wand and gave a slow prod to the door. Nothing happened.

" _Alohomora,"_ she whispered and heard the lock click. She pushed open the door, expecting an alarm to be raised. Silence.

"Honestly," she muttered. "The security in this place." She made a mental note to tell Healer Longbottom about the lax security measures.

The doors in this corridor were heavy, metallic and were studded with a variety of locks on each. Each door had a miniscule square window through it. It almost looked like Azkaban, with a corridor that seemed to stretch for miles with no windows and lit by eerie torchlight.

She walked quietly down the corridor, past all the unlocked doors, until she finally came upon one where all the locks were in use. Apprehensively, she approached the door and peered into the tiny, square window.

It was dark inside the room, and it took her eyes a little time to adjust. What she saw made her stomach drop.

A fully-grown werewolf was pacing the tiny room.

The gray fur was matted down with huge chunks missing. The overgrown canine teeth stretched over the lower lip, giving the creature a permanently hungry expression.

Victoire dashed over to the next door and looked in. Another werewolf, this one frantically biting its own leg. She ran across the corridor, looked into another room. A werewolf, throwing itself repeatedly against a wall. In every room, a tortured human-turned-wolf was imprisoned. Victoire's heart was pounding as she looked into a room labeled "Garrido, Antonia."

The wolf was standing on both hind legs, looking back at her through the window. She almost leapt back in horror, but the eyes were soft and kind.

"Mrs. Garrido," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

The creature-Mrs. Garrido-looked back curiously, sadly. The eyes were the same soft brown as the woman Victoire had seen not even two weeks ago. "You're still in there," Victoire whispered. The she-wolf gazed back, almost pleading with Victoire. _Help me._

She pushed back from the door, her mind buzzing. How many people were in here? Victoire stood in the middle of corridor, gripping her wand, her brain an endless loop of _Who? Who? Who?_

She wasn't sure how long she had stood there, racking her brains, until she heard a bloodcurdling scream from one of the cells. She raced down the hall, following the perpetual wail until she arrived at another silvery, metal door. The creature inside was, like Mrs. Garrido, on its hind legs, peering back at Victoire. The eyes looked so familiar…

She looked at the name by the door, and her stomach clenched. _Goldstein, Avi Benjamin._

_Avi._

She looked back into Avi's wolf eyes in horror. "Avi," she whispered. "Avi...who did this to you?" Wolf-Avi looked back at her sadly, his canine face looking strangely human. Victoire began to cry, huge salty tears coursing down her face.

"Avi!" she cried, pounding the door. But he had moved back from the door and resumed an eerie howl. She forcefully pushed back from the door, digging her nails into her hands.

Suddenly, all the cells began the same pitch. A long endless howl assaulted Victoire's ears; she clamped her hands over her ears and looked back into Avi's cell. Blue moonlight was pouring in through the window. _The moon_.

He was launching his canine body at the door in a frantic, agitated way. Each launch ended with a sickening thud on the door, each one sounding faster than the last. Victoire, terrified, gripped her wand and sprinted from the wing. Once she dashed through the doors, she locked them and turned on the spot.

She reappeared on Teddy Lupin's doorstep.

* * *

 **Author's Note(s):** Thanks for reading! Chapter Eight is almost done, and I think it's the best one yet. In the meantime, read and review! Reviews will save the icebergs! xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight** _

* * *

_If destiny comes to help you,_

_Love will come to meet you._

_\- Rumi_

* * *

Teddy was nearly asleep when he heard the sharp rap at the door. He glanced over. Hannah Priest was sleeping soundly next to him, her bare skin glowing in the light of the half moon that shone through the window.

He thought about ignoring the knock, going back to sleep, but there it was again-three sharp taps on the front door.

Sighing, he swung his legs out of the bed and threw some pants on. He padded quietly to the door and peeked through the peephole. What-more like _who_ -he saw made his stomach drop. For the second time in two weeks, Victoire Weasley was on his doorstep.

"Teddy, let me in!" Victoire said urgently through the door. He panicked. What if Hannah woke up? What if Victoire found out Hannah was there? What if they _met?_

He opened the door a little bit so as not to initiate an invitation. She was wearing a cap atop her head, a plain blue t-shirt and jeans. Even when he was feeling extremely stressed by her presence, he also couldn't help but note how pretty she was.

"What are you _doing_ here?" he hissed at her, blocking her entrance into the flat.

"Teddy," she said. "Teddy, I know why it was us that went to Azkaban first. I know why you got that tip and I know why all the patients are coming to St. Mungo's." She made to enter the flat, but he stepped out again, shirtless, onto the stoop. She stared. "Are you seriously not going to let me in?"

"The place is a bit of a mess," he said.

Her eyes narrowed briefly, then looked earnest. "Teddy," she whispered. "The heir of Greyback-he's pursuing _us."_

"Why would he be doing that? We're nobody."

"Think about it. Your father was bitten by Greyback. My father was attacked by Greyback. We both have unique magical traits-I'm Veela and you're a Metamorphagus. You work at the _Prophet_ and I'm at St. Mungo's." Teddy's face looked blank. She sighed exasperatedly. " _Teddy._ The heir is sending clues to us about what they're planning on doing. Not just _clues_ but they gave _you_ the answer."

He cast his mind back to the note. "The...tip. _The werewolf army will rise once more."_

She nodded, crossing her arms and looking simultaneously pleased with herself and terrified. "It's the full moon soon," she said. "The people at St. Mungo's-something's happening to them. They're already in wolf form, but the way they're acting-it's almost like they're going through the Change _again_."

"But how can they…" But Teddy didn't get to finish his thought because the front door to his flat swung open to reveal Hannah standing there. Teddy was relieved to see that Hannah was fully dressed.

"Hello," she said, smiling at both Teddy and Victoire. Teddy looked immediately at Victoire, who slowly registered Hannah's presence with a confused expression.

"Who are you?" she blurted out, her blue eyes fixated on Hannah's face.

"Hannah Priest. Ministry of Magic," Hannah said, stepping forward and extending her hand out. Victoire ignored her outstretched hand. "And you are…?"

"I'm Victoire." She paused. "Er...St. Mungo's."

Hannah looked at Teddy. "Would you like to introduce us, Teddy?"

His heart was thrashing wildly, imagining that all his worst nightmares couldn't be worse than this.

"Um…" He gestured toward Victoire. "Hannah, this is Victoire Weasley. Victoire, this is Hannah Priest, my-" He trailed off.

"You didn't mention expecting a guest, Teddy," Hannah said in a syrupy voice. "I would have left earlier in the evening." She look thoroughly embarrassed, and Teddy felt as mortified as she looked.

Victoire's flushed cheeks paled at this. "I-didn't know. I wouldn't have come here if I'd thought-"

There was a heavy silence. Victoire finally looked at Teddy. "I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head so he couldn't see her face. "I should-leave."

"No," Hannah interrupted. "I should leave. You were clearly having a very important conversation." Hannah quickly gave Teddy a peck on the cheek, then turned to Victoire. "It was nice to meet you, Victoire."

"I-" Victoire was suddenly at a loss for words. Whatever she had imagined would happen tonight, running into Teddy's new, extremely beautiful girlfriend wasn't what she had pictured. They watched as Hannah hopped off the front step, turned quickly in place and Apparated away.

"Vic-" Teddy said urgently. "Can you-"

"I'm leaving," she said abruptly. "I'm sorry for...interrupting you." She hopped off the step, following Hannah's lead, then paused and turned to face Teddy. "Next time you're in the middle of a shag, _don't_ answer the door."

* * *

Victoire walked briskly to her aunt and uncle's house. _They'll be sleeping_ , she thought to herself. _But they'll want to know what's happening._ She had Apparated to a nearby park accidentally, not totally focused on where she was going. Instead of trying again, she recalled that the park was not even a ten minute walk from their house.

As she spied the familiar brass lion door knocker, she broke into a run, her sneakers pounding the pavement as she leapt to the stoop and pushed the door open. The door announced her arrival, but she was surprised to see lights on down the hall.

"Vic?" called a familiar voice. Her stomach dropped. _Dad. He's in London for work._

"Hi, Daddy," she said, jogging down the hall and stepping into the dining room. Bill Weasley sat at the dinner table, nursing what looked like a regular Muggle beer, with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny.

Bill stood up. "Vic, you're supposed to be at home."

"I know, but…" She gestured toward Harry. "Can I talk to you?"

Harry stood up immediately, but Bill put a hand on Victoire's shoulder. "Victoire," he said sternly. "Please explain why you're here and not at home."

She took a deep, shaky breath. "Daddy. I need to talk to Uncle Harry. Alone."

She watched the three adults exchange significant glances. "Alright," Bill relented.

Harry led the way into the hallway, and Victoire followed.

Breathlessly, she explained what she had seen at St. Mungo's, how she thought that the heir of Greyback had lured her and Teddy to Azkaban with the tip and the patients sent to St. Mungo's and how she'd gone to see Teddy. She left her meeting with Hannah Priest out of her story.

Harry was nodding somberly. "You think that Greyback's heir wants you and Teddy?"

She raised her chin defiantly. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why not? We're both Greyback's victims, in a way. We're easy targets."

"This is true, but you don't know for what? What does the heir want with you?"

"We'll know when we start looking for him." She paused, hoping this would spur him on. When he stared at her, she sighed. "We have to go back to Azkaban. We need to talk to Greyback again."

He shook his head. "I'm not putting you at risk again," Harry said firmly. "Your dad will have my neck. I'll owl my staff and ask them to look into this lead, ok?"

"Don't you get it?" she said, her voice rising, the spoiled little girl emerging now. "We don't have enough time. We're all in danger! There are more people coming in every single day with the same symptoms. We don't have time for you to _owl your staff_."

Harry took a step back, and his expression was no longer one of The Indulgent Uncle. Sternness shuttered his eyes, and any glint of humor or gentleness was gone. "Victoire," Harry snapped. "I am the Head Auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Last time I checked, you were a Trainee Healer, not an Auror. Correct me if I'm contradicting you."

She shook her head mutely.

"Furthermore," Harry continued. "Your assumption that I am not taking this issue seriously is erroneous. I'm going to have to insist that you back away from this investigation and let myself and the other professionals handle this. This isn't a job for a kid."

Victoire wobbled back, stung. Harry could be stern, but he had never been _cruel_ to her. Her mind was blank except for one word. _Kid._

"Let's go, Vic," Bill said, appearing in the hall and grabbing her by her elbow. "Sorry about all this, Harry."

Harry nodded at Bill. "Good luck, mate," he said, avoiding looking at Victoire. She stumbled as her father began to steer her toward the front door, nearly falling but righting herself just in time to see Aunt Ginny emerge, too.

As Bill reached for the doorknob, his arm now around his eldest daughter's shoulders, Victoire turned her head and called over her shoulder, "He wants Teddy." Harry and Ginny turned to stare. "He'll do anything to get Teddy, I know it. Help him. Keep Teddy safe! Please!"

And with those words, she was gone, her words hovering over Harry and Ginny like a ghost.

* * *

When Teddy went into the office the next day, he was surprised to find one Harry Potter waiting for him at his desk.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he asked as his desk chair spun around to reveal his godfather.

"He's been waiting here for ages," Susan said gaily from her desk. "Since before the office opened."

"Dunno how he got in, though," Mark grumbled.

Harry grinned. " _Alohomora_ , mate." This didn't elevate Mark's mood. He grumpily leaned back over his desk, the clacking of his keyboard louder than before. The words "defeat the Dark Lord" and "think you can do anything" were caught over the typing noises.

Teddy dropped his bag on his desk, pulling over a chair to sit next to Harry. "What are you doing here?" he asked his godfather. "Dropped in while visiting Ginny."

"I came to see you," Harry said, lowering his voice. "Care if I cast a Muffliato?"

"I got it," Teddy said, whispering, " _Muffliato_." He waved his wand and the bizarre silence that accompanied Muffliato descended upon them.

Teddy leaned back in his chair, looking at Harry. "Is everything alright?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure," he replied. "Victoire showed up at our house late last night I'm wondering if you know anything about that."

Teddy blushed crimson, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "She, uh, was, um, at my house, too."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "I thought you said you hadn't, ah, reconciled."

Teddy flushed even deeper. "No, it wasn't like that," he said. "She dropped in to...tell me about a hunch she had. But she left before I could ask her more."

"Pissed her off more than I did, did you?" Harry looked amused.

"Er, yes, probably," Teddy said. "I had...company."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Ah. I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"It's not like that," Teddy explained. "It's...complicated."

"Women are complicated," Harry said, smiling.

Teddy nodded. "I'm beginning to figure that out."

"I'm here to ask for your help," Harry said, push his messy dark hair out of his eyes.

Teddy raised his eyebrows "The Boy Who Lived is here asking for _my_ help?"

Harry gestured fruitlessly. "Listen," he said, "we're a bit, erm, _swamped_ at the Auror office."

Teddy looked alarmed. "Are things _that_ bad? That you're coming here asking _me_ for help?"

"We have everything under control," Harry said defensively. "We just need a little, ah, support. I've had four officers resign in the past four months. We're shorthanded at almost every turn."

"Have you considered a change in your management style?" Teddy said, smirking.

"Shut it, Ted," Harry said. "The job's become more and more dangerous. Voldemort's followers are out there, and they're becoming more emboldened by the longest lasting peace since he first came to power. They're acting in out in ways I haven't seen since the Second Wizarding War. A Muggle family was murdered last week in Brighton. Looks like Avada Kedavra, but there's no trace of the spell being cast."

Teddy looked at Harry, and for the first time, saw how tired his godfather looked. Behind the round glasses, Harry's bright green eyes were cast with deep, dark shadows. There were tight lines around his mouth, casting his face with a glumness Teddy hadn't known in his godfather. Teddy felt a rush of affection for this man he'd been calling his family for his entire life. He wanted to hug him, to let him know how much Teddy appreciated everything he'd done for him.

"I didn't know about that murder," Teddy said.

Harry nodded gravely. "The workload is...well, let's just say that I'll be glad when all Voldemort's old followers are dead and gone."

"So...what d'you want with me?"

Harry now leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers together thoughtfully. "I need," he started, "a researcher."

Teddy blinked. "A researcher?"

"Yes," he said. "I usually have one at the department, but my last one left to follow his girlfriend to Argentina."

"Why me?"

"You're an investigative reporter," Harry said. "Surely you can track down a couple leads for me?"

"Don't I need...security clearance or something?"

Harry waved a hand at Teddy carelessly. "If you agree, I'll ask Barnabas to let you take a leave of absence from work," he said. "And you'll work with my office on this case."

"This is insane," Teddy said. "I'm not cut out for Auror work!"

"You'll do fine," Harry said. "So? What do you think?"

Since Teddy had been little and seen Harry going away for long periods, he'd longed to become an Auror. He'd received the right N.E.W.T.s in school, but had decided at the last minute to take another route.

He stared at Harry, the lightning scar no longer the only mark on his face. He had a scar on his cheek and another one right above his lip, giving him a permanently rougish grin. Harry looked expectantly at Teddy.

"Well?"

"Yeah, alright," Teddy said, grinning. "I'll do it."

"Alright!" Harry crowed, clapping a hand onto Teddy's shoulder. "We'll pay you as a contractor, and you can sort all that out with Wendy Houlahan at the Ministry. But before you start, I do need to ask you one thing."

"What?"

"I've promised Bill and Fleur," Harry began, "that I won't involve their daughter in this."

"I'm pretty sure Dominique wouldn't be interested in this," Teddy said, smirking.

Harry didn't smile back. He looked gravely at Teddy. "You _know_ who I mean. You can't involve Victoire in any of the work we do at the department, do you understand?"

"Is that even allowed?" Teddy asked.

Harry shrugged. "We work with lots of people," he said. "Experts in the field. Witnesses. We have loads of partners across Britain. We couldn't do this job without all the witches and wizards we work with."

"But we can't work with Victoire."

"'Fraid not," Harry said. "When I told Bill I was coming to offer you this gig, he asked me to keep Victoire out of it. I promised him."

"Victoire's an adult," Teddy said, feeling a twinge of annoyance in his chest. "You can't make promises like that to her dad. She could be really useful in this case."

"When you're married," Harry said, standing up, "you'll understand these complicated dynamics." He waved his wand and the strange silence surrounding them ended abruptly. Teddy felt as if he'd been plunged into a freezing cold ocean. The noise descended on him suddenly: the gentle clicking of keys, the mutter of his colleagues conferring over a piece of paper.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Harry said, shaking Teddy's hand.

"Huh?"

"You'll report to the Ministry tomorrow. 8 A.M. sharp in my office."

"Yep."

"Oh and Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"At the Ministry, you'll be required to call me Auror Potter."

Teddy smirked. "Yes, sir," he said, nodding and mocking a salute to his godfather. Harry grinned, and in a moment he was gone. Teddy, feeling thunderstruck, flopped down at his desk and began writing.

* * *

When Teddy Flooed into the Ministry of Magic the following morning, he was surprised to see so few people in the gigantic hall. The building never seemed to not be teeming with people, but today, two witches were walking across the hall, engrossed in their papers. A young wizard was sitting at the edge of the fountain, reading something on his mobile phone and munching on a breakfast sandwich.

Teddy walked to the lift, pushed the call button and watched, amazed, as the lift came toward him faster than it ever had before. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he said.

"Noted," said the cool voice from the lift, and he gripped a handle above his head as the lift jerked backward into the wall and began to rise meteorically. Teddy felt his stomach knotting up, the jerky motions of the lift making him nauseated. He should have eaten breakfast, but his nerves had been ramped up this morning, and he wasn't certain he would be able to tolerate even a small breakfast.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the lift announced, skidding to a stop. Teddy stepped out of the lift, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants and striding toward the reception desk.

"Yes?" said the house elf from behind the desk, not looking up. The elf wore a pair of slim spectacles perched on the edge of his long nose.

"I'm, er, here to see Harry Potter," Teddy said.

"Yes, yes, everyone wants to see Harry Potter," the elf said without glancing up. "And I want to own a house on the Amalfi Coast, but we don't all get what we want, do we?"

Teddy cleared his throated. "I'm starting as a contractor today."

The elf finally looked up from his scratching quill, and his wide eyes narrowed. "You're Edward Lupin?"

"It's just Teddy."

"You look awfully young," the elf said, staring at Teddy.

"I'm 22," Teddy said defensively.

"Whatever you say," the elf said. "Auror Potter is extremely busy this morning. You'll be training with Auror Khan."

Teddy stared. "Er...ok."

"Have a seat," the elf said, waving a long finger at a row of chairs on the far wall. "She'll be out momentarily."

Teddy turned to the chairs, then turned back to the elf. "Um," he began, "what's your name? Since I'll be working here with you...I'd like to know your name."

The elf looked back up at Teddy, his expression softened. "I'm Narberth Greengrass," he replied. "But everyone around the office calls me Narby."

"Nice to meet you," Teddy said, giving a little wave to the elf and moving to sit in the chairs when a loud voice called to him.

"Teddy Lupin?" Teddy turned to see a young woman striding toward him, wearing casual clothes. He felt strangely overdressed in his crisp white shirt and tie. "Hi," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Jamila Khan. Auror Potter asked me to show you our case files today and get you oriented."

"Hi," he said, shaking her hand. "Am I early?"

"You're right on time," she said. "Follow me."

He fell in step behind her, her leading the way down a wide open hallway with sunlight streaming in from every direction. The design was unlike anything that Teddy had seen at the Ministry of Magic. Where the rest of the Ministry was dark and moodily decorated, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was bright and airy. All the walls were glass, and Teddy could see people working diligently in their offices and attending a meeting in a large conference room.

"Right here," Jamila said, turning abruptly to the right. Teddy followed her into a small room with a little desk, two chairs and a big blackboard. The desk was stacked with large file folders. "This will be your office. Has Auror Potter filled you in on what you'll be doing?"

Teddy shook his head. Jamila sighed, and Teddy could feel an air of impatience emanating from her. He tried to look sorry that he didn't know exactly what he was doing even though he mentally blamed Harry for leaving him in the dark.

"Have a seat," Jamila said, scooting up a chair. Teddy gingerly sat next to her. "No, no, there!" She pointed at the chair behind the desk.

"Oh, er, right," Teddy said, walking around the desk to sit in the swiveling chair.

"Now," Jamila said, eyeing the pile of files. "These are all files on St. Mungo's patients. Each patient has a file with the Department-we've been trying to track their moves prior to their infection, but we're running up on a number of dead ends that we can't figure out."

"What kind of dead ends?" Teddy asked.

"We can't figure out where they got infected," Jamila said simply. "There's no pattern except-"

"-that they're all Muggle-borns," Teddy finished, putting his hand on top of a particularly fat file. "Have they been to the same places?"

"That's the trouble, innit?" Jamila said. "All us magical folk go to all the same places, don't we? We come here to get out Apparition licenses. We all bank at Gringotts. We all go to school at Hogwarts. If there is a pattern, it's deep in there."

Teddy nodded. "Okay," he said. "So I'm looking for the pattern."

Jamila nodded. "Yep," she said. "You'll have all the Department's resources at your disposal. Interview people. Go to St. Mungo's and chat with the Healers."

"Who's been working on this until now?"

Jamila looked exasperated again. "We're a bit, er, shorthanded," she said. "We've collected the information, and we were just waiting to hire someone when Auror Potter suggested bringing you on. I read your elf trafficking piece. Pretty good stuff. That undercover work was Auror worthy."

"It was a collective effort," Teddy muttered, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

Jamila shrugged. "If you say so," she said, standing up. "There's coffee and tea in the kitchen-we all pitch in a few Sickles to get the good stuff. You can give it to Anthony Jones-he's in the office across from you. Oh and...one more thing."

"What?"

She reached across the desk rapidly and yanked a few hairs out of Teddy's head. "Ouch!" he yelped, gingerly rubbing the spot on the crown of his head where he was now lighter a few hairs. "What was that for?"

"Your security clearance," she said, grinning from the doorway. "I take care of that. After lunch, I'll take you down to Wendy Houlahan to get your pay sorted out."

"Oh, right," Teddy said. "Thanks."

Jamila made to leave, but then paused in the doorway. "You know," she said, looking thoughtful. "Your mum is a bit of a legend around these parts. She was a great Auror."

"What made her so great?" he blurted out, unthinking.

Jamila looked surprised at the question. She cleared her throat. "Well, she was before my time," she replied, "but from what I hear, she never took no for an answer."

_Maybe she should have._

"Anything else, Lupin?"

He shook his head, and Jamila was gone.

Teddy swallowed the lump in his throat, and flipped open his first file, starting to read everything he could about Antonia Garrido.

* * *

Victoire was staying at The Burrow.

After her dad had dragged her home two days ago, she'd fought ferociously with both her parents. They'd started monitoring all the fireplaces in case Victoire tried to make contact with Teddy, and she had, in a fit of rage, owled her Gran Molly and begged to stay with her, insisting that she couldn't stay with her parents when they were behaving like "fascists." Bill had laughed at this, saying, "Oh, this generation has been spoiled, haven't they?" And Gran had put a gentle hand on Bill's arm.

"Let her come with me," Gran had said quietly. "You could use a break, and I'll keep an eye on her."

Bill and Fleur had conceded, allowing Victoire to pack a small valise of her things and leave Shell Cottage.

Gran had stayed true to her word, keeping Victoire busy with various chores, always keeping a watchful eye on her granddaughter.

This morning, Victoire was scrubbing a toilet vigorously, her hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. She wore an old Puddlemere United shirt that belonged to her dad, and running shorts. "Has me cleaning bloody toilets," Victoire muttered grumpily, standing up and examining her work. Satisfied, she rinsed the toilet brush, washed her hands and left the bathroom.

"Oh, Vic, dear," Molly called from downstairs. "Could you change the sheets in Ginny's old room?"

Victoire jogged down the stairs, seeing her grandmother sipping iced tea at the table. "Are we expecting someone, Gran?"

Gran smiled kindly. "Just want to be prepared in case another one of my grandchildren decides they want to escape their parents for a bit."

Victoire sat down at the rough wooden table, cupping her chin in her hand. "Gran," she said quietly. "How did you do it? When Voldemort came back and Uncle Ron ran away with Harry and Hermione?"

Gran looked at Victoire thoughtfully. "Well, I _tried_ to stop them," Gran said. "I did. I wanted them to go back to school. Imagine what would have happened if I'd gotten my way."

Victoire was very fond of her grandmother, a doting woman who, after a lifetime of caring for others, was still willing to take in a stray grandkid. Victoire, who had never fought with her parents as a teenager, had never needed to stay here to get away from her parents. She had heard from her cousins, though, that staying with Gran was a blessing and a curse. Gran, the kindest person she'd ever known and also, Gran, the choremaster who insisted that all who stay with her participate in the daily upkeep of The Burrow.

"What do you mean?"

Gran stirred her iced tea, the long spoon clinking against the sides of the tall glass. "I mean, if I had sent Harry back to Hogwarts, I would have sent him right into the arms of the Death Eaters," she said. "We know now about Severus Snape...but I didn't know then. I'm so glad they didn't go."

"My parents," Victoire began, "they think I'm crazy."

"I didn't ask what you fought about, dear," Molly said, reaching out and gently brushing a strand of Victoire's hair back from her face.

"I don't think I can explain," Victoire said. "But I think Teddy is in danger. I don't know how to tell anyone who will believe me."

"I believe you, my love."

"You do?"

Gran waved her wand, and the pitcher of iced tea and a glass floated gently over the table. She poured Victoire a glass, setting it down on the table in front of her granddaughter.

"I do," she said. "I believe that you believe that Teddy is in danger."

Victoire's heart started racing. "Can you-can I-will you tell Uncle Harry?"

Molly's eyes softened sympathetically. "Vic," Molly said. "You have to trust that Harry is doing everything in his power to figure this out. I know you and Teddy have a...special bond and that you're worried about him. Harry loves him, too, dear, and will do anything to keep him safe."

Victoire slumped down now, any hope she had of questioning Greyback again gone. She sipped her iced tea moodily while avoiding Gran's eye. Gran stirred her beverage delicately, and then took a breath to speak. Victoire stood up before she could say anything more. "Where are the clean sheets? I can change them now," she said abruptly.

Gran smiled serenely. "They're out on the washing line, dear."

Victoire drained her iced tea and strode outside, leaving her grandmother sitting alone in the kitchen.

* * *

 

"Ah, found your office, have you?"

Teddy looked up from his desk to see Harry leaning casually in the doorframe of his office at the Ministry of Magic. It was his third day working at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but the first time he had seen The Boy Who Lived in person at the department. Teddy closed a file and raised his eyebrow at Harry.

"Auror Potter," he said. "Glad to see you were able to make it in today."

"That's enough, Lupin," Harry said sternly, but his eyes were filled with mirth. He sat down in a chair across from Teddy, making himself comfortable. "What have you found?"

"No real patterns of movement yet," he said. "Like Jamila-"

"Auror Khan," Harry corrected.

"-Auror Khan said, we all go to the same places and do all the same things. So there's no telling where these specific people were infected."

"I think," Harry began, "it's time for you to start doing interviews. Go to St. Mungo's! Go see the families of these people. Track their movements. Take good notes. I know you're good at taking notes and connecting patterns."

"Don't I need to get my security clearance before I can start doing any of that?"

Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and handed Teddy a crisp white badge. Teddy looked at it. It had his picture, and below it, it read: _Edward R. Lupin, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Contractor._ "That's why I'm here, mate," Harry said. "That can get you in and out of these offices at any time. You'll be able to get into the Ministry whenever you want. Just don't abuse it."

Teddy nodded. He stood up, gripping a file. "Alright," he said. "I'm off then."

"Good luck," Harry said. "Make sure to check in with Auror Khan periodically. She reports directly to me, and she'll keep me updated on your findings."

"Will do, boss," Teddy replied, and with a brief nod, he was gone."

"I'm _telling_ you right now that we're not allowed to disclose any patient records."

Teddy sighed. The witch at the records desk at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies was being obstinate. He had been waiting for nearly an hour, and when he'd finally approached the desk with his request, the woman behind the desk had refused it.

"And I'm telling you that I'm here on official Ministry business," Teddy said, leaning over the tall desk. " _Harry Potter_ sent me here on a research mission."

"Sir, I wouldn't be allowed to give you patient records if Merlin himself had sent you," the witch insisted. "I'm sorry, but only an employee of the hospital can take out records of any kind without a warrant. These records are extremely confidential."

"A warrant can take weeks!" Teddy exclaimed.

"Then you'll have to wait a few weeks, now won't you?" The witch fiddled with her pen, tucking it behind her ear as she looked up at Teddy imperiously. He was strongly reminded of Molly Weasley, who, though small in stature, was the fiercest witch he'd ever met.

"I can't wait a few _weeks_ ," Teddy exclaimed. "I'm not sure if you know, but there's a pretty serious issue here at this hospital. People are turning into bloody-"

"Sir, if you don't step back from this desk, I will be forced to call the security trolls," the witch said, glaring at Teddy and reaching for her wand.

"Fine!" he cried, throwing his hands up. " _Fine_." He stormed away from the desk, the witch staring at him with a disapproving look on her face.

He punched the down button on the lift, breathing heavily as he thought about how his very first mission for Harry had been a total bust. He fumed, tapping his foot impatiently and wondering what the next step would be for him. He could owl some family members, but since nearly all of the infected were Muggle-borns, their families wouldn't be used to getting owl post. Maybe not all of their families even knew they were witches and wizards. A litany of reasons why his plans wouldn't work ran through his brain, each more improbable than the last.

He boarded the lift, pushing the button for the first floor. The lift was empty, and he leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall. He let his mind drift back to Victoire and their last meeting. With a jolt, he realized he hadn't told Hannah he would be working at the Ministry for the near future. She'd hadn't contacted him since their uncomfortable parting a few days ago, and he didn't expect to hear from her anytime soon.

The lift stopped and two Healers boarded it, smiling tersely at Teddy.

"Any idea when classes will resume?" one was asking the other. "We could really use those trainees."

The other one, a lanky man with a huge, dark mustache, shook his head. "Not until we get this, er," He glanced back at Teddy surreptitiously. "-situation under control."

"I'm having to do all my paperwork myself," the first Healer grumbled as they got off the lift on the second floor.

Teddy watched their green-robed figures recede, wishing he could have asked one of them to take out the patient records for him.

And then he gasped because he suddenly knew how he could get those records.

* * *

 

Dominique Weasley was in her bedroom at Shell Cottage. She was reading _Tarot Cards & Tea Leaves: Methodologies of the Diviner_, a book she'd been gifted by Professor Trelawney for her graduation. A gifted Seer, Dominique had been a favorite student of Trelawney's, and she adored Professor Trelawney right back.

Lying on her stomach on her bed, she flipped a page, twirling a piece of fiery red hair in her fingers. She was dressed casually in a t-shirt and shorts, waiting for her father to get home so they could all go to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's for dinner. Sighing, she remembered that Victoire wouldn't be there, and they'd have to answer all sorts of uncomfortable questions about _why_ she wasn't there and what she was doing _instead._

 _Tap tap._ Dominique sat up abruptly, looking for the source of the noise. Sometimes, she could hear noises that weren't actually there; they were visions inside of her head that she had trouble controlling.

 _Taptaptap._ More urgent this time. She clambered over to the window, yanked open the curtains and gasped. Teddy Lupin was standing outside her window. She pushed the window open.

"What-the- _hell_!" she hissed. "You're dead meat if Dad catches you here. He's bloody hacked off at you."

Teddy ignored her. "Where's Victoire?" he demanded.

"Teddy," Dominique pleaded, clambering out of the window to stand in front of Teddy. "You need to stay away from her! You took her to Azkaban to talk to a _werewolf_."

"Ahem," Teddy said, eyeing Dominique. " _She_ took _me_ to Azkaban."

"Whatever. The point is, your name is mud here."

"How's that different than the last year, Dom?"

She paused. "Ok, point taken," she relented. "Maybe we haven't been the nicest to you, but you have to understand-"

Teddy interrupted Dominique. "I _really_ need to talk to Vic. She's not in her room. Is she down at the beach? Is she even here?"

Dominique peered at Teddy. She had her father's genes and was tall like him, enabling her to look directly head on. She sighed. "She's at The Burrow," she said quietly. "She and Dad are...not getting along." She paused. "Because she thinks...something's going to happen to you."

Teddy looked surprised. Victoire had always gotten on with everyone in their family, and she was a spoiled Daddy's girl. Bill Weasley's eldest child had his attention whenever she desired it, and for them to be at odds with one another felt alien, like he had entered some upside down universe. Even when Victoire had started dating Teddy, Bill had been remarkably congratulatory, wishing the couple well and welcoming Teddy into his home as a surrogate son. Learning that Victoire and Bill were fighting because of him, because Victoire was trying to protect him, turned his stomach into lead.

"What does she think is going to happen to _me?"_ Teddy gaped.

Dominique sighed. "Go ask her yourself," she said, turning to climb back into the window. "She's staying with Gran and Grandad until she's cooled off."

"Dom," Teddy said, and she turned. "Thanks." He turned on the spot and with a loud _crack_ , he was gone.

* * *

 

"Vic," called Gran from downstairs. "Vic, there's, er, someone here to see you."

She sighed, getting up from the ground of the third floor landing where she was scrubbing the baseboards as Gran had instructed. She assumed Dad was here, readying himself to lecture her again about "safety" and "learning when to listen."

She trudged down the stairs, calling, "Dad, I'm not leaving! I'm staying here, do you hear me? I'm staying h-" She stopped.

Because the person who was paying her a visit wasn't her dad. It wasn't even Maman.

It was Teddy Lupin, standing in Gran's kitchen like she'd seen so many times before. He was shifting nervously as Gran and Grandad stared from him to Victoire and back. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The memory of their last encounter, her last words to him, came flooding back to her and she felt filled with shame and regret. But then, she always felt full of regret.

"Wotcher," he said, smiling tightly at her. He was dressed as if for work, smartly in a crisp white shirt with small blue dots, a navy tie and dark blue pants. The only thing that didn't look absolutely professional about him was his hair, blue like it was when she had crawled into bed next to him at The Invisible. When she'd told him to keep it that way.

"Hey," she whispered, slinking down the stairs. She suddenly became extremely aware of her appearance. She was back to wearing her dad's old Puddlemere shirt, which was far too big for her, and a pair of tight, stretchy shorts. Her feet were bare, the nail polish on her toes chipping obscenely. She self-consciously touched her hair, piled untidily on top of her head with an old scrunchie she'd found in Aunt Ginny's old room.

"Arthur," Gran said suddenly. "I think I just remembered that I need your help with that, ah, bookshelf upstairs."

"Yes, dear?" Grandad said absently, positively gaping at Teddy and Victoire. "What bookshelf, Molly?"

"The one upstairs," Gran said, taking Grandad's elbow and steering him upstairs, past Victoire. She should she imagined it, but Victoire could have sworn that Gran had winked at her as she passed her.

Once she could hear her grandparents sufficiently far above her, she took the last few steps down and watched Teddy. He looked anxious, fiddling with the clasp on his work bag, shifting his weight back and forth.

"How, er, are you?" she asked quietly, standing a good ten feet away from him.

"I need your help," he blurted out.

"What?" she asked. "Teddy...why are you here?"

They sat down together at the kitchen table, Victoire leaning forward to hear what had been happening with Teddy since she'd left him on the steps of his flat. When he told her that he'd been hired on contract at the Auror office, she felt a deep stab of jealousy and resentment course through her veins. When he mentioned that Uncle Harry had forbidden him from contacting her for help, she felt a surge of anger. Finally, when he mentioned going to St. Mungo's to get the patient records just moments ago, she interrupted.

"Those are confidential," she said. "All magical patients are covered by WHIPPA." He stared blankly at her. She sighed. "The Wizarding Health Information Patient Privacy Act. It just says that all medical conditions are confidential, and that hospitals can't share any information with anyone other than the Healer, the patient and whoever the patient give permission to."

"That's why I'm here," he said, lowering his voice so it was barely audible. "I need your St. Mungo's ID."

She stared at him. "You're joking, right?" He didn't say anything, so she continued. "I'm not giving you my fucking ID! I could get kicked out of the program if we get caught! Remember Azkaban? It wasn't that long ago. What happened then?"

"We got bloody caught," Teddy said. "But we were essentially breaking into a _prison_. This'll be easy compared to that."

"Health information is _private_ , Teddy!" she hissed in a low whisper. "Besides, what would you do once you had my ID? You certainly don't look like me! Oh...no you don't, Teddy Lupin. If you morph as me, I'll kill you myself."

"You didn't have a problem with me morphing into Harry."

"That's because it wasn't my body you were morphing into."

"Oh right, be liberal with the body of The Chosen One, but if it's your body, it's not okay."

She blushed crimson. "I just...it's _weird_. You've known me since I was a baby. I don't like the idea of you...seeing me or something. I dunno." She stuttered to a stop, seeing a small grin play across Teddy's lips. She knew what they both were thinking. _We've both seen each other naked. A lot. Maybe too many times._

_But that was a really long time ago._

"Victoire," he said, and her name sat low in his throat, coming out almost like a groan. She felt a familiar shiver race up her spine when he said her name like that, and she had stop herself from visibly shaking. "Please. I need your help. You're the only person who can help me."

"I'm the only person not _allowed_ to help you," she commented. "And in case you haven't been clued into my living situation, I'm staying here with my grandparents who've received strict orders to not let me out of their sight. Gran would owl my dad immediately if I decided to go traipsing off with you. Especially you."

"I don't get why everyone thinks _I_ dragged _you_ to Azkaban."

He watched as her cheeks reddened. "It's just not like me," she said. "That's what Maman and Dad kept saying. _This isn't like you._ "

"Well, they're right," Teddy pointed out. "The Victoire I knew would have gone straight to the nearest adult."

"I _was_ the nearest adult," she said, standing up from the table and stepping back until she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "And the Victoire you knew is gone. You should know better than to bring her into this."

He gawked at her for a moment, watching as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. After a few second silence, he stood up, crossed the kitchen and stood in front of her. He could smell her sweet hair, see the freckles across her nose up close. Without thinking or wondering what would happen, he put his hands on her shoulders, sliding them up her neck and cupping her face. He leaned in close to her, and she didn't move. Her lips parted in surprise as he ducked his head down to look into her sky blue eyes.

"Please, Victoire," he whispered. "Please."

Well, how could she say no to _that_?

* * *

 **Author's Note(s):** 1) Thanks for the reviews, **CanadianHogwarts, Kngo1995** & **Anon**! 

2) This chapter is poorly edited, so if you spot an error, please let me know. I'm a bit swamped in my day job, and haven't had the time to be thorough in my editing.

3) Liking the story? Write a review! Reviews will make you coffee in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Victoire lay in her bed at The Burrow, her eyes wide open. She was staring at the ceiling in her dad's old room. Her grandparents, ever the doting parents, hadn't changed the room much from when Bill Weasley and Victoire's Uncle Charlie had shared the bedroom all those years ago. The sloping ceilings were plastered with old ("vintage" Bill liked to say) Puddlemere United posters, moving photos of Hogwarts students in their uniforms and a huge poster of a Peruvian Vipertooth, Uncle Charlie's favorite kind of dragon. A dresser stood on the far end of the room, right next to a door that led out to a terrace. She turned her head to stare at the stars twinkling against their black backdrop. They seemed to wink at her, letting her in on a joke she wasn't sure she quite understood.

Victoire shared this room with Dominique when they stayed at The Burrow overnight, but the tiny bed across from her own sat resolutely empty with no sleeping Dom in it. Victoire missed her sister's soft snores, her gentle rustling. Dominique was a fitful sleeper, and more than once, Victoire had thrown a pillow at her to get her to _stop moving, for Merlin's sake_!

Tonight, however, Victoire lay quite alone in the room, feeling a flush of anxiety from the top of her head down to her toes. She had long since stopped hearing the creaks coming from the house. Gran and Grandad had gone to sleep long ago after interrogating her severely about what Teddy had needed from her. Now she lay silent in the bed, trying not to think about what she was about to do. She had tucked her wand under her pillow and now reached underneath her head to feel it, fingering the edge of it and willing the roiling in her stomach to end. Any moment, she could summon up a Patronus to send the message. But here she lay, with her heart pounding in her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her stomach flip-flopping with anxiety.

Slowly, she pulled the wand out from under her head, tossing the sheet back from her body. She didn't wear pajamas, but a pair of jeans and a blue tank top. She crept across the room, wincing at the creaking that came from the old floorboards, and grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulders.

Then, Victoire crept over to the window and peered down into the garden. From below, she could see the figure huddled against the fence, his long legs curled up to his chest. She sighed, remembering his warm hands on her face, his eyes piercing her own. She took her wand, placed in at her throat, closed her eyes and said, " _Expecto Patronum_." As she pulled the wand away, a thin, jagged thread of light emanated from the tip of the wand to her throat. Slowly, she pointed the wand away from her, giving it a tight jab and from the tip of the wand burst a huge, silent creature.

The gleaming white lioness prowled at Victoire's legs, looking up at her expectantly. "Tell Teddy Lupin I'm ready. I'm coming outside," she whispered. The Patronus nodded, and with the grace of a feline, leapt from the small terrace down to the garden. Victoire watched as the lioness raced across the garden toward Teddy, who was standing now. She watched as he received the message, and began to cross the garden. Taking a deep breath, Victoire cracked open the little door and stepped out onto the terrace.

Below her, Teddy Lupin stood silently, watching as she emerged. Her hair was pulled into a long ponytail that she had tossed carelessly over her shoulder. She looked down at him, a small smile on her face. Warily, he raised his wand and whispered, " _Wingardium Leviosa!"_ and with a swish and a flick, Victoire rose from the terrace and smoothly sailed down to the ground, landing lightly in front of him.

"You've improved," she noted with a smile. "The last time you did that, James flew clear across the yard.

"I was seventeen!" Teddy said defensively. "Too eager to do magic."

They were quiet for a moment. Victoire looked back at The Burrow, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. "Hey," Teddy said. "You ok?"

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose. They just...took me in this time. And I'm just running away from them. My parents trusted them to keep an eye on me..."

"We'll get word to them," Teddy said reassuringly. "Come on. We've got to get to where we can Apparate."

"I'm not sure where the wards end," Victoire said. "No one else has these kinds of wards anymore. Not even Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, and she's the bloody Minister for Magic."

"When I Apparated here, the wards tossed me a few hundred yards that way." Teddy pointed west. Victoire nodded.

"Ok," she said. "Let's go."

Silently, they began to trudge across the yard, The Burrow getting smaller and smaller behind them. They stumbled through the tall grass that grew around The Burrow, Victoire guiding Teddy around the various gnome holes.

"Careful," she said, grabbing his arm to steady him as he nearly tripped and fell.

"Thanks," he said with a grateful smile. But it was dark outside, with the barest sliver of a moon visible in the sky, and Victoire didn't see his smile.

After a few minutes silence, Teddy cleared his throat. "How's-er…" He paused, wondering if he really wanted to go down this conversational path with her. "How's the bloke you were seeing?"

Her head snapped toward him, and he saw her eyes widen with surprise. "What?" Her voice sounded tight.

"Avi? That was his name, right?" Teddy tried to sound casual, but he feared he was just giving away how nervous he was.

A long pause. "Yes, that _is_ his name," she said.

"You're still seeing him?"

"I mean...I'm at The Burrow," she said. "And he's...at St. Mungo's."

"I thought classes had been cancelled?" Teddy paused. "Oh. Is he a Healer?"

"No. He's a Muggle-born." Another pause. "He's been infected."

" _Shit_."

"Yeah."

"Sorry, Vic," he said.

"It's _fine_ ," she said. "He'll be fine once we can...figure out the source of the infection. The source will lead us to the heir."

Teddy looked around. "I think we can Apparate from here," he said. "This is right about where I ended up today." She nodded.

"We're going to St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," Teddy said. "We'll raise fewer eyebrows if you go during normal business hours."

"Where are we going now? Your flat?"

Teddy shook his head. "Once they realize you've gone, they'll come straight to my flat and take you right back again."

Victoire made an annoyed sound, still fuming about her argument with her dad. "So where will we go?"

"I have an idea."

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place had seen better days, but you wouldn't know it from looking at it now. The decay of the House of Black, unseen by Muggle passersby, had spread to the homes around it. The neighborhood had fallen into a deep disrepair. Most of the homes around Grimmauld Place were boarded up or abandoned. The few that remained had litter on their stoops. It was July, but one house still had a window cling Santa Claus stuck to the facade.

Teddy had brought them to the little park across the way. Victoire stumbled as they landed, grabbing Teddy's shoulder for support. The park was abandoned save for the rats that skittered across the overgrown brick path.

"Where are we?" Victoire whispered.

"Grimmauld Place," Teddy replied, turning his head to look at her. Her face was bright with excitement and nerves.

"I thought it was…"

"Gone?" Teddy shook his head. "No. It's Harry's."

"But then won't he be able to find us?"

"Shhh." Slowly, he opened the creaky gate at the park, gesturing for Victoire to leave first. Giving him a quizzical look, she edged past him and out of the gate, stepping onto the lonely street. Behind her, she heard the _click_ of the gate closing and Teddy's light breathing.

Cautiously, they crept across the road, approaching the faded black door of Number 12. As she approached, she caught a glimpse of the huge door knocker. Like the Potter house, the door knocker was ornate. Unlike the Potter house, the knocker was silver and shaped like a great, twisted serpent. Victoire felt the eerie aura of the house come over her, and it was all she could do to not run far from the creepy old house.

"There's no way to get in," she said, noting the obvious lack of a doorknob or even a lock.

"Hmmm," was all Teddy said, staring at the door thoughtfully. He gripped his wand, waving it a few times at the door. Some sparks-red and green-flew from the tip of his wand and hovered around the door knocker. Then, the knocker _moved._

Victoire sprang back, her heel catching the top step and she fell _hard_ down two steps. Teddy, startled, leapt down the steps and crouched next to her, a concerned look coming over his face.

"I'm fine," she said, pushing herself off the sidewalk and gingerly patting her rear. "It just... _scared_ me."

"Yeah, I've never seen the one at Harry's do that," Teddy said. "Anyway." They took the steps back up to the door, and Teddy flicked his wand again. The same red and green sparks hovered briefly around the knocker, and the serpent's mouth began to move.

"Who comes into the House of Black?"

"It's me," Teddy whispered. "Edward Remus Lupin, son of Nymphadora Tonks, grandson of Andromeda Black."

The serpent's head nodded, and with an almighty wrenching sound, the heavy black door creaked open. Victoire reached into her pocket, gripping her wand as the dimly lit corridor came into view. Teddy went ahead, the tip of his wand lit to illuminate the corridor better. Victoire stepped in, and the moment she was fully inside, the door creaked behind her with a piercing creak. Victoire thanked the blissfully empty street and abandoned homes; she didn't want to attract attention to herself and Teddy breaking into a house that no one but wizards could see.

"Stay close," Teddy whispered and Victoire nodded, following him into the corridor, her wand in her hand.

" _Homenum Revelio,"_ she heard Teddy whisper. Nothing happened, and she was flooded with relief for the first time since she had arrived at The Burrow days ago. She followed Teddy up some stairs and into another tight, dark corridor.

"I think the drawing room is here," he said, and pushed open a door. A puff of dust met them, and they both dissolved into hacking coughs, covering their mouths and waving the dust away with their hands. When the dust had cleared, they opened their watery eyes to examine the drawing room.

It was a huge, dark room with more serpents on the wallpaper. "They really leaned into this theme, didn't they?" Victoire remarked, looking down at the carpet only to see more snakes printed on the rug.

"A house of Slytherins, I guess," Teddy said, shrugging.

"Does Harry ever come here?" Victoire said. "This place is a bit of a dump."

"He tried to donate it to the Ministry a few years ago, I think," Teddy said, waving his wand and watching dust disappear from the sofas and tables. "But the house put up a terrific fight. Wouldn't even let Ministry officials in."

"How did _we_ get in?"

Teddy smiled. "I'm a Black," he said, shrugging and flopping down on the shortest sofa. "Even though my Gran was disowned, the house still has loyalty to me. Old Walburga didn't have a chance to change the spells before she croaked."

"Walburga?"

"Sirius Black's mum."

"Ah." Victoire tossed her backpack down, sliding down into the sofa opposite Teddy. "So...tell me the plan for tomorrow."

* * *

Later, when Victoire thought back to donning the green robes of a St. Mungo's Healer and taking confidential medical records out of the hospital, she would remember it as a minute detail in the whole grand scheme. She wouldn't remember how her heart was racing as she fastened the green Healers robes. She wouldn't remember her sweaty palms as she clipped her St. Mungo's identification card. She certainly wouldn't remember how she Apparated around the corner from the hospital or how she took the lift up to the records floor. Neither would she remember how she requested over a hundred copies of patient records, how she handed over her badge and watched as the witch waved her wand over the badge to confirm Victoire's identity. She wouldn't be able to recall how she got the files down and on the lift and out of the hospital. She didn't remember sending a Patronus with a message to Gran.

What Victoire did remember from that day was spreading the files out on the huge kitchen table, sitting at the table and sorting the files alphabetically. The crinkly parchment rustled as she and Teddy worked in silence, poring over the tiny words. Victoire spotted her own signature a few times under intake for many of the patients.

After a few hours of poring over the files, Teddy stood up to stretch. "I think," he said. "I should make an appearance at the Ministry today."

She nodded, not looking at him. "Okay."

"Do you want something to eat?"

Her stomach gave a traitorous rumble. "I'll be okay for a few hours," she said, still poring over a piece of parchment.

"Why don't you go to my flat and get some food there?"

"Teddy," Victoire said, finally looking up. "I know you don't keep food at your flat. I've been there before."

"I do!" he said defensively. "I have...tea...and stuff."

"Tea and...stuff?" She raised her eyebrows. "Well, gee, that sounds delightful."

"I'll get you something on my way back," he said, grabbing some files off the desk. "I'm going to take these and look at them in my office."

She looked back at the papers in front of her, a pen stuck behind her ear. Teddy smiled, remembering how she used to tuck a pen behind her ear when she studied for exams at Hogwarts. "Fine," she replied.

"And if Harry asks where you've gone…"

"Tell him you don't know," she said. "Tell him we had a row, and I'm not speaking to you anymore."

"I'm not a very good liar," he admitted, sliding the files into his bag.

"Who said that was a lie?"

* * *

"Hey! Lupin! Hellooooo?"

Teddy's head snapped up as he pulled his headphones out of his ears. Jamila Khan was standing in the doorway of his office, waving her hand in front of him to get his attention. "Finally!" she exclaimed.

"What's up?" he said, instinctively closing the file he was reading.

"You were supposed to come to your first meeting with me ten minutes ago," she said. "Update me on the progress you've made? Remember? I put it in your calendar." She pointed at the huge desk calendar that was hung up in the office. Teddy glanced at it, and there it was in green ink: _Supervision with J.K._

"Shit," Teddy said. "One week and I'm already missing appointments. I'll be there in a sec."

Jamila shook her head. "I haven't got the time now," she said. "But be ready by Friday to give me a full update on what you've been up to. I have to run to a meeting with the boss!" And with that, she was gone, jogging down the hall to Harry's office.

Teddy felt a guilty squirm in his stomach at the mention of Harry. He knew he'd eventually have to reveal how he found the files, and how he was able to go through over a hundred different files. For now, though, he'd be able to keep the secret for a while longer. At least until he got some answers.

* * *

"I want to go see _this_ family," Victoire said, sliding a file across the table to Teddy. He set down his chopsticks into his pad thai, pausing mid-chew to look at the file.

"Gideon Tate?"

She nodded, taking a huge, noodley bite and chewing thoughtfully before replying, "Yes. I think it'll be good for us to start in one place."

"Us?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, _us_."

He looked through the file, pausing again. "His sister is Lola Tate?"

Victoire gave him a closed-mouth smile. "Finally! I was wondering when you'd see that."

"That's rather unusual," Teddy commented, his eyes raking over the parchment. "Two Muggle-born wizards in one family?"

"It's not unheard of," Victoire said. "The Creeveys-Dennis Creevey, who works at the _Prophet_ -he had a brother who went to Hogwarts."

"Ah, yeah," Teddy said. "That's right. I remember from the…ceremonies."

"I think we should talk to Lola," Victoire said. "She and Gideon run their parents' cafe somewhere in Camden."

"Okay," Teddy said. "I'll go tomorrow."

"I'm not sure _why_ you're trying to keep me out of this," Victoire said, shrugging. " _You_ came to _me_ for help.

"If Harry catches on that you're helping me, I could lose my job."

"It's a contract job," Victoire said. "You're still a reporter at the _Prophet_ , remember?"

"You know what I mean."

She ignored him. "I think we should go tonight."

" _Tonight?"_

"Tonight."

* * *

"Vic!" Lola Tate exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting to see you anytime soon."

Victoire smiled, giving Lola a tight hug. "I'm sorry it couldn't be under better circumstance," she said kindly, patting Lola gently on her back.

"Hi, Teddy," Lola said, waving at Teddy. "I heard that you two had—"

"We're just working together," Teddy said quickly.

Victoire avoided Teddy's gaze as she stood in Lola's small flat. "Nice place," she said. "Where's, er…"

"Eddie," Lola replied, naming her live-in boyfriend. "He's visiting his mum in Bristol. She's been sick."

"Oh, Lola," Victoire said. "I'm so sorry."

Lola waved a hand carelessly. "Oh, it's alright," she said. "I suppose you want to talk to me about Gideon."

Teddy nodded somberly. "We're so sorry to interrupt you this evening to talk about this."

"No, it's no worry. Why don't you have a seat and I'll make us some tea?"

Victoire and Teddy sat next to each other on a small sofa. Teddy pulled out a notebook and a pen, flipped it open and wrote _Lola Tate Interview_ on the top in his looping writing. Moments later, Lola arrived with a tray of tea and biscuits. She set the tray down, and seating herself across from her two interviewers.

"Lola," Victoire said. "Can you tell us a little about Gideon?"

Lola sniffed. "Well, he was ahead of us at Hogwarts. He's ten years older than me, you see. He graduated with perfect N.E.W.T.s and was going into the Auror office when my parents died."

"When was that?" Teddy spoke quietly, his pen scratching.

Lola thought for a moment. "They died right before I got my Hogwarts letter," she said. "Bit of a surprise that was, me getting a letter too."

"So…he took over the café after your parents…"

Lola nodded. "Yeah," she said. "The shop was where our mum and dad met, and they bought it after they were married. It's a nice little shop. We have coffee and tea. We get loads of tourists…" She trailed off, looking lost. Victoire sipped her tea, setting the dainty little cup with a tiny clink.

"Did he ever return to the magical world?" she asked.

"Oh, sure," Lola said. "We still have friends there, you know. We see them quite often, for holidays and such. I just saw Elsa the other evening, Vic; she came by the shop to check on me."

"Is Gideon married?" Teddy inquired.

Lola smiled. "He's a bit of a free spirit. He's had girlfriends and such, but no one that stands out. The last girl he was seeing was a Muggle, and that was over a year ago. Don't see how she could be dangerous."

"What's her name?"

"Um… Janet something. I can find out later, if you want."

"Don't worry about it," Teddy said. "Does Gideon live here?"

Lola shook her head. "Good heavens, no," she replied. "I live here with Eddie. Gideon has a flat above the shop. I can take you, if you'd like."

Victoire nodded vigorously. "Yes, we'd like that very much!"

"Later," Teddy said. "Lola, do you think you could tell us what Gideon had been doing the few days before he went to St. Mungo's."

"I can tell you _some_. I don't know everything he did. _"_

"Let's start the week before he went to St. Mungo's," Teddy said. "He was admitted on July four. What was he doing June 27?"

"Hm, let's see." Lola closed her eyes, as if blocking out Teddy and Victoire would help her remember. "That was a Wednesday?"

"Yes," Victoire replied.

"Wednesday is when our milk order comes in," Lola replied. "Both Gid and I get to the shop at four in the morning to meet the distributor. It's a big order, so we both need to be there to unload."

"Was anyone else there with you when the milk arrives?" Teddy asked.

"Yes," Lola said. "Our café manager, Geeta, was there. She usually takes the inventory the mornings when we get the milk, makes sure we get enough for the next week."

"What does Gideon do while Geeta's taking inventory?"

"He helps the distributor unload the milk cartons," Lola replied.

"What did he do after that?"

"Well, we both usually stay at the café while it's open. He was there the whole day. He's front of house, ringing people up and wiping down tables."

"What time does the café close?"

"Six in the evening."

"And then what did you do?"

"Gideon, Geeta and I closed up the shop," Lola said. "And then I came home. Eddie had made dinner."

"Did Gideon tell you what he did that night?" Teddy asked, scribbling furiously.

"He went to visit some old school friends in Diagon Alley," she said. "Elfreth O'Connell. He was in Gid's year at Hogwarts—older than me."

"Does Gideon go to Diagon Alley…often?" Victoire interrupted. "That is to say—"

Lola's eyes narrowed. "I know it's a bit—" she paused, "—unusual for magical people to see us taking over our mum and dad's Muggle business…"

"No, I'm sorry," Victoire interjected again, much to Teddy's chagrin. "That didn't come out right. What I meant was, does Gideon still…use magic?"

Lola nodded fervently. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "Yes, we both do. I said that earlier."

"Where are your business accounts?" Teddy asked.

"Pardon?"

"Your bank accounts," he clarified.

"Well, we have Muggle bank accounts for the café," she said. "For tax reasons, you see. But we both keep our personal accounts at Gringotts still."

"And was Gideon at Gringotts the week before he was admitted to St. Mungo's?"

"I'm not sure," Lola answered. "He goes to Diagon Alley all the time for errands, to see friends, to have a pint at The Leaky Cauldron."

Both Teddy and Victoire looked at each other, their expressions unreadable.

"Okay," Teddy said, looking back at Lola. "What happened the next day?"

"Gideon seemed fine," she started. "Geeta and I opened up the café together, and when he got in after his appointment at the Ministry, he seemed normal and—"

"He had an appointment at the Ministry?" Victoire interrupted. Lola was starting to look annoyed at the constant stream of interruptions.

"Yes."

"What for?" Teddy asked.

"Didn't say," Lola continued. "And he seemed normal. He did his same daily tasks, and when we closed, he said he was going home to rest."

"Busy day at the café?"

She chuckled. "Every day is a busy day at the café."

"So why rest that day?"

"He was probably tired."

"Okay. Does anything stand out to you from that day to when Gideon was admitted to St. Mungo's?"

Lola held her teacup in two hands, her eyes focused on Teddy and Victoire. She looked like she was deep in thought, and then, slowly, she shook her head. "Nothing. He did more of the same. Went to see friends. Went to Gringotts once to take out some money. He needed new dress robes for a wedding so he went to do that. It wasn't until Tuesday that I even noticed something was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't come to open the café," Lola said. "I figured he had another appointment that day, so I opened up again. When he didn't show up by noon, I started to get worried. I went to his flat, and there he was…" Her face whitened. "He was in agony. I haven't ever seen him that way before. I made a Pain Begone Potion, but nothing seemed to work. Any of the usual charms I tried failed. So I told him to go to St. Mungo's the next day."

"And the rest…"

"..is history," Lola said, biting back tears. "I haven't seen him in over a week. They won't tell me how he's doing, just that he's in quarantine."

Victoire paled. She hadn't known _this_. She hadn't know that families were being kept deliberately in the dark while the Healers figured out how to counteract the illness affecting a hundred or more Muggle-born patients.

Teddy closed his notebook. "Thank you, Lola," he said kindly.

"Wait!" Lola cried. "Aren't you going to tell me how…how he's doing?"

Teddy and Victoire exchanged terse glances, then looked back at Lola.

"We don't know more than you do," Victoire said, hoping she wasn't blushing. She was a hopeless liar, never having been able to tell even the smallest fib. Lola's face fell.

"Well…will you owl me if you learn more?" the young woman asked. "Please?"

Victoire nodded. "Yes, Lola. Yes, I will."

* * *

Harry Potter, Head Auror, was a busy, busy man. He stared moodily at a heavy sheaf of papers on his desk, willing himself to pick up the top report and read it. He hated to admit it, but being Head Auror was less exciting than the magical world imagined. While he did occasionally get to bring in notorious dark wizards, he primarily managed a team of highly capable Aurors in the field. The towering stack of papers were reports from his recruits, and he had to read all of them in order to report to _his_ boss, the Minister of Magic.

 _You'd think Minister Granger_ _would cut me a little slack_ , he thought grumpily as he finally picked up a report and began reading. He knew that, of course, Hermione Granger, his best friend for nearly thirty years, expected excellence, even from her friends. Even from her _best_ friend who had defeated the dark wizard Voldemort over twenty years prior. She was a tough but fair manager who expected regular updates on the work that Harry had been doing since he was twenty years old.

Now over forty years old and a father of three, Harry Potter moved a little slower than he had in his youth. When he was younger, he had been eager to serve, his youth and experience in defeating the greatest evil wizard to ever live driving him to prove that his past exploits hadn't been mere luck. He had served in the field for nearly fifteen years, dueling other dark wizards, testifying against former Death Eaters, investigating mysterious murders and above all, ensuring that no one else gained the kind of power that Lord Voldemort had been able to.

In the last five years, however, Harry had noticed that he was losing a bit of his speed and agility. On an operation in Morocco, he had been struck with a Slicing Spell and spent months recovering. After that, his wife had demanded that he take a step back from field work.

"You're a father, Harry," Ginny had said stubbornly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I _know_ ," Harry said. "And I want my kids to live in a safe world! A better world than the one we lived in."

"I want _our_ kids to have a father," Ginny retorted. "I want you to see all of our kids graduate school, fall in love…become parents themselves! Don't you want that?"

"Of _course_ I want that! How dare you accuse me of _not_ wanting that?"

"Then fucking act like it!"

They had glared at one another fiercely in Harry's office. He might have been embarrassed at his colleagues hearing their raised voices if he hadn't been so angry at Ginny in the first place.

In the end, Ginny convinced him to try a desk assignment until he was ready to return to the field. His wife's open relief at having him home every evening combined with his children's glee had been enough: he'd made the post permanent, and been promoted to Head Auror shortly after.

A knock at his door pulled him out of his daydream. Jamila Khan, his second-in-command in the field, was poking her head in.

"Hey, Captain," she said, striding in. "The Romania team is here, waiting to brief you in thirty minutes. You ready?"

Harry nodded, opening a drawer and pulling a bulging file out. "I read it last night," he said. "Some pretty dark stuff."

Jamila glanced around, making sure no one had overheard him. "Let's talk when we get into the secure meeting room." She turned to move away, but Harry called after her.

"Lieutenant!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"How's my godson doing?"

Jamila frowned. "To be honest, Captain, this Romania operation is priority number one for the department. But I haven't seen Lupin yet today. He must be out doing interviews and sorting the files."

Harry nodded. "Very well. Owl him when you get a moment, will you? I want to check in with him prior to…"

"Yes, sir," Jamila said, and with a turn, she was gone, striding down the hall.

Harry sighed, pulled open the Romania file and began reviewing the documents before the debrief.

* * *

Teddy didn't go into the office the morning after he and Victoire had visited Lola Tate. He woke up in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place in the earliest parts of the morning. From the windows facing the small park, he could see pale strands of sunlight coloring the darkened sky. He rolled over, now facing Victoire on her own dusty sofa across from him. Her arm hung gracefully off the makeshift bed, her knuckles nearly grazing the floor. Her eyes were closed, the lids bluish. The sound of her soft breathing soothed him, and he closed his eyes again, listening to her breaths. If he hadn't been in this dingy old house, he might have been back in the Head Boy's suite at Hogwarts, listening to Victoire breathe softly next to him.

He didn't recall falling asleep, but the next thing he knew, he was dreaming.

* * *

_He was waiting for the Hogwarts Express, but he was himself—age twenty two, tall and lanky, with bright blue hair. He felt a small hand slip into his, and he looked down. A small girl with pale blonde hair and huge blue eyes stared up at him. Victoire as he remembered her at age five, complete with the skinned knees and that dumb monkey backpack she loved so much._

" _Where are we going?" she asked cheerfully, tugging on his hand and swinging it around wildly, to and fro._

_He cleared his throat. "I'm going away," he replied._

" _Where to?"_

" _With my mum and dad."_

" _Can I come, too?" She paused. "I promise I'll be good. I won't run inside anymore, and I'll wash my hands before supper and—"_

" _You have to stay here," Teddy said, now crouching down in front of her._

" _What if I don't want to?"_

" _You must."_

" _No."_

_He heard the train and he stood up to look at it, but he couldn't see anything. A thick mist had covered the platform. He looked back down at Victoire. She was crying now._

" _Who will take care of me?" she was saying over and over. "I need help. I need help."_

" _You can take care of yourself," he said. "You're a big girl now."_

" _But I need help for this." She pointed at her chest, and a crimson bloom of blood began to spread rapidly over her chest. His heart began to race as he reached down for her. But the mist was too thick, and it swallowed her up completely._

* * *

He felt the press of five long fingers on his upper arm. He opened his eyes to see Victoire sitting there in her pajamas. Her bare legs were level with his eyes, but he forced himself to look upward into her face.

"Teddy?" she said, her face concerned. "Are you okay?"

He scrambled up too quickly, making himself dizzy. "Ow!" he said, dropping his head into his hands. "Ughhhhh."

"You were talking in your sleep," she said. "And thrashing about."

"Oh, er, it's nothing."

She looked skeptical for a moment (or maybe he imagined it?), but she stepped back, falling back on the sofa on which she had slept. "It's nearly nine," she said. "We should get going."

"Right. I'll get ready."

"Er…I could use a shower," she said. "I don't suppose you'd know where there are towels in this creepy place?"

Teddy paused, then spoke up. "I don't suppose you'd want to have a shower at my place?"

"What if someone shows up looking for me?" she said. "I'm sure my parents have already talked to Aunt Ginny…and Gran…"

"I think it'll be alright," Teddy said reassuringly. "We'll only be there for a second."

Teddy wasn't expecting the two owls waiting for him in his bedroom. He heard the shower hiss on, heard the water splashing down on the white tile, heard Victoire swing the shower door shut with a massive creaking noise. A snowy white owl was sitting on his desk, looking at him reproachfully.

"Hello, Tully," Teddy said, giving the owl a treat as he removed the letter from the owl's talons. Tully crunched the treat, gave Teddy an affectionate nibble and flew out of the open window. Teddy unrolled the letter, reading Bill Weasley's familiar, spiky handwriting.

_Teddy,_

_I hate to write to you under such circumstances, but Victoire has run off. She was staying with her grandparents. They mentioned that you had arrived at The Burrow, and she disappeared that night. We think she might be with you._

_If she is with you, please have her return home to Shell Cottage at once._

_Best wishes,_

_Bill & Fleur_

Teddy stared at the letter in dismay. He hadn't thought, after nearly a year of silence, that Bill and Fleur would have thought to owl him directly over Victoire's whereabouts. Victoire had sent an owl to her Gran and Grandad assuring them that she was fine, but that she wasn't going to share where she was or what she was doing.

Debating on whether or not to respond to the letter, he turned to the owl posted on the windowsill. As he directed his attention toward it, the creature stuck out its leg in a rigid fashion, allowing Teddy to remove not one but two letters from its limb. The owl shook its feathers roughly and soared out the window. Tully remained, watching Teddy. Teddy unfurled the letter, this one on the familiar pale yellow Ministry of Magic letterhead.

_Lupin,_

_Let's check in on Thursday at 2 pm. I want to see what you're doing, and I need to brief the boss on what you've found. We'll meet in my office at the department._

_Jamila Khan_

_Auror_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Ministry of Magic_

Teddy checked his had a few hours before he needed to brief Jamila on what he was finding. It was enough time to do at least two more visits with patients' family members. He was hoping none of them would be as mysterious or lacking as their session with Lola Tate last evening. Tossing the letter on the bed, he cracked open the letter, his eyes widening as he read the looping, uneven penmanship, astonished.

_Teddy,_

_I hope I didn't cause too much of a problem with Victoire the other night. You haven't owled or called to tell me you're working at the Ministry now. Let's have lunch. Owl my office to set up a time._

_Yours,_

_Hannah_

He goggled at the letter, surprised that Hannah had thought to write him. When he had last seen her nearly a week ago, she had run into Victoire on his front porch, leaving him in a cloud of embarrassment and shame.

He wasn't sure how long he had been staring at Hannah's letter when Victoire interrupted him.

"What's that?" she said from the doorway of the bedroom.

Startled, Teddy crumpled the note and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. He turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, wrapped in a towel printed with tiny broomsticks. Her damp hair clung to her bare shoulders in thin, curling tendrils. The towel barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.

"N—nothing," he stammered, averting his eyes back to the other letters on the bed. "Just some-" he cleared his throat "—work stuff."

She crossed the room, and he caught a whiff of her rose shampoo as she passed him. He closed his eyes ever so briefly, letting himself remember easier times with her. _Before everything got so messed up._ She picked up the letter from the bed, looking over the letter from her parents.

"I can't believe this shit," she muttered, tossing the letter back on the bed and taking an uneasy seat on the edge of the bed. "Did you write to them?"

"No, of course not."

"Please don't," she said. "All they do is worry and fret. It's such a bother having them worry all the time."

"They have a pretty good reason to be worried," Teddy pointed out. "It's not every day you uncover a massive, magical public health conspiracy."

She shrugged one bare shoulder, her hand holding the towel up. "We haven't uncovered anything yet." She stood up. "We should go. We need to talk to Mollie Foster's family."

* * *

Victoire privately wondered if Teddy was just humoring her in doing these interviews, and if his true aim was to establish a firm platonic friendship between them once and for all. He seemed to be operating under a code of professionalism that Victoire had never seen from him before, and she didn't know (or care to ask) whether he was doing it because he now worked for The Boy Who Lived or whether he was truly telling her, in his way, that he definitely didn't feel _that_ way for her any longer. She thought this as she glanced over at him, the sunlight turning his turquoise hair into a bright, neon blue.

They were standing on a quiet lane somewhere in Kent. Posh houses lined the street, each with its own towering gate.

"A bit rich, these Fosters?" Teddy said, squinting against the midmorning sun. He pulled out the file on the patient, a young woman of about thirty, and peering at the parchments inside.

"It seems so," Victoire said, sighing and looking up the lane. "It's that house, I think." She pointed to a house where the gate was flanked by statues of gleaming brass lions.

"She wouldn't be a Gryffindor, would she?" Teddy said as they approached the gate.

Victoire looked around the gate, puzzled. "How are we supposed to get in?" They both stared at the small box with a little red button on it. "Do we…push this?"

As if someone had been watching them, a crackly voice boomed through the box. Both Teddy and Victoire leapt back in surprise.

"WHO'S THERE?" the disembodied voice said. "DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT?"

Victoire thought in horror at her grandad's advice _. Never trust something if you can't see where it keeps its brain._

"Er, yes," Teddy replied to the box, nearly shouting in the direction of the crackling tones.

"Names?" the box said.

"Edward Lupin," Teddy replied. "And this is—"

"Veronica Watson," Victoire replied, thinking quickly. Teddy shot her a quizzical look, but the gate's slow, creaky open interrupted him.

"Enjoy your visit," the box said, now more quietly than ever before.

They gaped as the gate closed behind them. Both Teddy and Victoire had grown up not necessarily as children of _means_ , but certainly not poor. Teddy's gran's house was comfortable, and Shell Cottage was small but homey. Mollie Foster's childhood home, however, was positively luxurious. A gravel path lined with meticulously trimmed hedges snaked its way up to the enormous front door.

" _Merlin_ ," Victoire whispered. "Who are these people?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

They strode up the path, climbed the steps to the front door, and Teddy raised his hand to knock. Before his knuckle could make contact with the oak, however, the door swung open and an old-fashioned looking butler stood at the door.

"Welcome, Mr. Lupin and Miss Watson," he said. "Let me escort you to the drawing room."

As they stepped into the house, Victoire was strongly reminded of Malfoy Manor, a home she had only been in once many years ago for a Hogwarts fundraiser. A wide, sweeping staircase with gleaming banisters split into two separate staircases. A lush, Oriental carpet rested below her sneakers, and she spied a number of lavish, tasteful details just in the foyer: a jade-colored vase, an elegant painting and a tall table that she was sure was worth thirty Shell Cottages put together.

The butler led them into a side door, where they encountered an even more elegantly decorated drawing room.

"Please have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the brocade sofa. "Mr. and Mrs. Foster will be in momentarily."

Victoire took a seat, dropping her purse next to her. Teddy pulled out the file, his pen poised. A clock ticked loudly as they glanced around the room, noticing all the expensive furnishings and wondering what on earth this family must be like.

The door swung open again, and two people walked in. "Hullo," said Mr. Foster cheerfully, extending his hand to shake both Teddy and Victoire's hands. His wife, a short woman with graying hair, hung back. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she remained silent as she seated herself across from Teddy and Victoire.

"Thank you for taking our appointment so quickly," Teddy said apologetically. "And we appreciate you taking the owl. Our department is trying to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

"We're used to it by now," Mr. Foster said, waving a hand. "Mollie always had…" He trailed off as his wife let out a little whimper at Mollie's name.

"This shouldn't take long," Victoire said. "We're just wondering if you could help us track Mollie's steps the days before she was admitted to St. Mungo's."

Mr. Foster nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes, we can certainly try."

"So—" Teddy paused, not sure how to ask this question. "What does Mollie do for work?"

Both Fosters looked briefly embarrassed, but Mr. Foster spoke first. "Mollie is…taken care of…for the rest of her life," he said. "If you know what I mean."

Victoire reddened. She _loathed_ talking about money, and she especially loathed talking about it with people who had lots of it.

"What did she do with her days then?" Teddy said, trying to maintain a measured tone in her voice. "If she didn't need to work?"

"She helped manage our family's foundation. She's the head of the foundation now."

"What does she do day to day?"

"Pardon?"

Victoire interjected. "What does a day typically look like for Mollie?"

"Ms. Watson," said Mr. Foster in a patronizing tone. "Her days vary significantly. Some days she has meetings. Some days she is in the office all day."

"Where is the office?"

The two older people exchanged amused glances. "Why, right here, of course," Mrs. Foster replied. "The office is located in the house, in the east wing."

"We'd like to have a look at it after this interview," Teddy said. "Will that be alright?"

"Certainly." There was an awkward silence as Teddy shuffled his notes around.

"So…" More shuffling. "Mollie was admitted to St. Mungo's on a…"

"Friday," Mrs. Foster said, her hands anxiously twisting in her lap.

"Where was she on Thursday?"

"She was bedridden," Mrs. Foster replied. "She had an awful headache. We tried everything."

"Even magical remedies?"

Mrs. Foster raised her eyebrows. "Well, as you know, Ms. Watson, we are…non-magical people. Mollie's gift is entirely her own, and she was in no condition on Thursday to brew up a potion or cast any sorts of spells to help herself. We tried non-magic remedies"

"Does Mollie still have friends in the magical world?"

"Certainly. A number of school friends from Hogwarts. Some from abroad, at Beauxbatons."

"Does she see them regularly?"

"A few times a month, I'd say," Mrs. Foster replied. "She's quite involved in the…I'm not sure the word. The S.P.E.W Movement in…your world."

Victoire's ears perked up. "She's interested in elf rights?"

"Yes, she's quite passionate about it. She was thrilled when your Minister passed the Elf Freedom Act a few years ago—she had worked quite a lot on that project."

"Tell us what Mollie did that week."

"Well, she had a few meetings with grantees that week," Mrs. Foster said. "And she went to a party with a school friend in St. John's Wood."

"Any idea whose party?"

They both shook their heads. "That was Tuesday evening," Mrs. Foster mused. "On Monday, she had a few appointments in Diagon Alley."

"What kinds of appointments?" Teddy said, now listening closely. He had never quite appreciated what kind of a life Muggleborn witches and wizards lived; their lives were constantly straddling one world or another. They couldn't simply _be_ in one world.

Both the Fosters now looked baffled. "I think she was meeting with some other elf rights people," Mrs. Foster said. "And then she needed to get her, er, wand repaired."

"Her wand was broken?"

"She said it had been behaving oddly since she had gone to the Ministry of Magic the week prior."

"Why did she need to go to the Ministry?"

"The foundation issued a grant to your Ministry a few years ago," Mr. Foster explained.

"Wait…what?" Teddy breathed, now astonished.

"Mollie persuaded us," Mr. Foster said, smiling sadly. "She was convinced it was important research that needed to be done. She went to go talk to our contact at the Ministry."

"Do you know who the contact is?" Teddy asked. "In which department?"

They both shook their heads mutely.

After a few more routine questions during which Teddy took furious notes, the Fosters led Teddy and Victoire across the foyer and into the official offices for The Foster Foundation. The office was ornately decorated, like the rest of the mansion, with a huge oak desk littered with papers.

"Mollie's office," said Mrs. Foster sadly.

Teddy, feeling extremely weird about combing through this woman's desk while her Muggle parents watched, was relieved when the butler arrived and invited the Fosters back out for their next appointment.

"Take whatever you need," Mrs. Foster said quietly. "Anything to get our girl back."

After they left, Victoire reached over for Teddy, squeezing his bicep hard. "Did you catch that about her wand acting funny? You think someone tampered with it?"

"Dunno," Teddy replied. "Let's start looking."

"For what?"

"Anything that might give us a clue."

After nearly fifteen minutes without finding anything, and fighting with a stubbornly locked drawer in the desk, Victoire let out a sigh of frustration. "What the hell could possibly be in her office drawer that is so important that the drawer is locked?" she huffed, yanking at the drawer.

"We could open it if we really wanted to," Teddy said in a hushed voice.

"Is that…okay? You won't be fired or anything?"

Teddy took out his wand and waved it. The drawer slid open smoothly, without a sound. Victoire knelt on the plush carpet, peering inside. Teddy knelt next to her.

"Doesn't look like much," she said, rummaging through a drawer. A leather bound day planner, some pens and a stash of romance novels littered the drawer.

"Give me that day planner," Teddy said, and she handed it over. He placed it carefully in his bag, and after they had closed the drawer, Teddy waved his wand again and heard the drawer lock again with a small, satisfying _click._

* * *

"How could this operation have possibly gotten so urgent?" Harry demanded of Jamila. "What are our agents doing out there?"

"Captain," Jamila said. "Auror Jackson has reason to believe that there is a mole inside his unit in Romania. I'm not sure who or how it happened."

"One of ours or one of the Romanians?"

"Not sure, yet, Captain. We've been checking for leaks, but it really could be any one of us."

"We need to bring this trafficking ring down," Harry said. "It's extremely urgent that the supply runs dry. Merlin knows we don't need more vampires in this world." As he finished this sentence, a silence descended in his office as Jamila looked down, her hands twisting in her lap.

Over the last six months, the British Ministry of Magic had been called in to help the Romanian Ministry eliminate a trafficking ring that supplied a local contingent of vampires with a fresh blood supply—supply made up of young travelers, mostly Muggles, who were backpacking Europe. The vampires, in exchange, didn't feed on the locals or, more importantly, the crime families' children. Two young British women had gone missing over Christmas last year in the region, and Harry had dispatched a team of six newly trained Aurors to go undercover with the local crime families—both magical and non-magical families—to out the source of the trafficking.

But in the last month or so, two of the Aurors had repeatedly failed to submit reports, and now had stopped showing up to their scheduled meets with the head of the operation. Their safety was in jeopardy, and the head of the Romania operation, a bright young Auror named Deshawn Jackson, had called Harry with desperation in his voice.

The operation had failed. They needed an out.

"We should leave as soon as we can, Captain," Jamila said finally. "Tonight, if possible."

Harry thought back to his enormous workload, everything he had on his plate, his mind wandering until it settled on something.

"Have you been able to connect with Mr. Lupin?"

"Today," Jamila said. "He'll be in today to brief me. But…Captain…we really must go."

"Have him brief you first," Harry said abruptly, standing up and reaching for the vase that held glittering Floo powder. "I'll leave right after I go talk to my wife."

"But, sir!" Jamila exclaimed. "I really must insist you go with the group, based on the protocol."

"Who do you think developed that protocol, Lieutenant?"

And with a fistful of Floo powder and whirl of his robes, he was gone.

* * *

At noon that day, Teddy and Victoire took the Tube to a tall, nondescript office building in central London. Together, they stepped into the sleek, silver lift and punched the button for the topmost floor. They were alone in the lift, and Victoire let out a little sigh.

"What's up?" Teddy asked.

"We'll have to do a hundred more of these," she said, staring straight ahead. "Maybe more if more patients start coming in to St. Mungo's. We may never find out what's happening to them. What happened to Av—" Her voice hitched, almost as if she were hiccupping, but no hiccup came and instead she assumed the pact of silence they had taken since they hopped into the lift.

"Thirtieth floor," said a jarring, robotic voice, very unlike the smooth, silky one in the lift at the Ministry of Magic. "Going up."

"This is us," Teddy said. "Tim MacLeod's dad's floor." They debarked, stepping aside for a large crowd of men and women in professional business attire who mobbed the lift.

Teddy approached a sleek, modern desk with a young man behind it.

"Er, hello," he said. The receptionist kept typing, but spoke.

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

"We have an appointment with Mr. MacLeod," Teddy replied.

The receptionist pointed to the sign behind his back, a smirk starting to play about his lips. The sign read: _MacLeod, MacLeod & MacLeod Real Estate._ "Which Mr. MacLeod do you mean?"

"Er—" Teddy shifted his notes around with a rustling sound.

"Mr. James MacLeod," Victoire said, interjecting. She was starting to realize that she interrupted people. A lot. _Maybe that's why I got dumped,_ she thought with a start, then removed that thought from her mind.

"Is Mr. MacLeod expecting you?" The receptionist still didn't look up, typing furiously on a slim, silver computer.

"Yes," Teddy said. "We have an appointment at—" He checked his watch. "—now. We have an appointment now."

The receptionist leapt up as if something had burned him. "Well, why didn't you _say_ that earlier?" he hissed. "Come on!" And with a crook of his finger, he led Teddy and Victoire back through a maze of cubicles that strongly reminded Teddy of his offices at the _Prophet._

"Here we are," said the receptionist, approaching a corner office with a stunning view of London. An older, distinguished looking man sat in a chair behind the desk. "Mr. MacLeod. Your lunchtime appointment is here."

The older man looked up, a grim look on his face. "Come in!" he said in a booming voice. "Shut the door, Reg."

Reg shut the door. Victoire and Teddy took a seat on a small, angular and uncomfortable sofa as Mr. James MacLeod took a seat across from them. He was tall, taller than he looked when he was seated behind a desk, and when he sat in the cubic chair across from them, he looked as if he was folding himself to fit into the chair.

"I guess you have some questions about Colin," Mr. MacLeod said before either Teddy or Victoire could speak.

Teddy nodded, his pen poised, ready to take notes.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Mr. Lupin and Miss—er—"

"Watson."

"Miss Watson? Bit peculiar for a detective's assistant, now?"

"What do you mean you can't help us?" Teddy asked, leaning forward.

"Colin and I are estranged," Mr. MacLeod said, looking around nervously.

"Estranged?" Victoire repeated faintly.

"I'm afraid so."

There was an awkward silence.

"Mr. MacLeod," Teddy said, breaking the stillness. "We really must know if Colin made any contacts in the magical world prior to his…illness."

"My son and I haven't kept in touch since he graduated from that absurd school with no higher education," Mr. MacLeod said coolly.

"So…nearly fifteen years without contact?"

Mr. MacLeod nodded. Victoire stared at him. The man showed no sign of remorse. Instead, his cold stare bore into them, and Victoire let out an involuntary shiver. This man did not like magical people, and he had made that extremely clear to them.

"Is there anything you might know about any contact Colin might have had in the week before he was admitted?"

"Nope," Mr. MacLeod said. "But Reg can bring you the box?"

"The box?"

"The box of Colin's things. That's what you're here for, right?"

"Oh!" Victoire said. "Yes. Of course. The box. Yes. How can we get it?"

The older man sighed, unfolding himself and his long limbs from the chair and standing up. "I'll ask Reg to get you the box." He strode to his desk as they stood up, Teddy casting Victoire a curious look.

"Reg?" the man barked into the phone. "These two are coming back up. Give them Colin's things." He slammed the phone down.

"You can go get it from the front desk."

Teddy and Victoire left. They didn't see, after they had closed the door behind them, the old man bury his face in his hands and start to weep.

* * *

**Authors Note(s):**

1) Phew! This chapter is long (compared to the others). I had to fit a lot in, but I was excited to write more Teddy & Vic interacting with each other. And of course, Auror Harry!

2) Chapter's not edited or beta-ed either. Sorry for errors!

3) Write a review! Reviews will solve this mystery. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

 

Victoire sat at the dusty kitchen table in the damp kitchen of Grimmauld Place, alone. Her only company was the crisp new box that held Colin MacLeod's belongings, secured from his surly father hours ago.

She stared at the stack of papers in front of her, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work she was anticipating doing. They had only done three interviews with family members, and all she found was that Muggle born witches and wizards were straddling a most uncomfortable line of residing in the magical and non-magical worlds. Gideon Tate, Mollie Foster and Colin MacLeod were just _three_ of nearly a hundred people, all of whose families she and Teddy needed to talk to to find a pattern. But some patterns might already be emerging. It all depended on Colin.

Sighing, she lifted open the box of Colin's things. Inside were odds and ends from a life that seemed comfortable and mundane. A parchpad sat idly atop a few books, some quills, a mobile phone, a pair of some very fancy cufflinks, a crumpled up jacket and a…wand.

Victoire lifted the wand gingerly, feeling the warmth spread from the wand to her fingers and up her arm. _Magic_. She waved it gingerly, and red sparks sputtered from the end of the wand. "Broken," she said, setting the wand down on the table.

 _Another broken wand,_ she thought, picking up her pen and making a note on her own parchpad.

She resumed rummaging through the box, shaking out the olive green jacket, searching the pockets and finding only a stick of gum, a Ministry of Magic visitor's token and a ticket to the cinema. She examined the cufflinks, the sapphires glinting gaudily. Setting Colin's parchpad down next to hers, she searched through the edges of the box until she couldn't find anything except dust.

Colin's parchpad sat on the table, and Victoire sat back down on the bench at the kitchen table, opening the parchpad and staring down at Colin's spiky penmanship. His notes were mostly messages he took, a phone number for the water company's billing department, a market list consisting of _cheese, beer, bread, milk, jam_.

And then there, Victoire saw it. She gasped, and then coughed, her breath catching in her throat as simultaneous shock and confusion washed over her. There was the pattern.

_Ministry of Magic. Thursday. 2 pm._

* * *

 

"Well, Lupin," Jamila Khan said, peering over her desk at Teddy. "What do you have?"

Teddy set his notes on Jamila's desk. "I just left Colin MacLeod's father," he started. "Colin's been at St. Mungo's for about two weeks now, but he's been estranged from dear old dad since he left Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"Seems like the old man doesn't exactly like Hogwarts or wizards or magic in general."

Jamila frowned. "Okay. Tell me more."

"So far the indication seems to be that all the Muggle-borns who have been infected go through our world pretty much unencumbered. They live in the Muggle world and our world simultaneously, so finding a trend has been hard."

Jamila stared at Teddy inscrutably. "So…what you're saying is…"

"I need more time," he said finally. "I need at least another week doing interviews daily before I can find a trend for you."

"Very well," Jamila said, standing up and escorting Teddy to the door. "I'll brief Captain Potter on your work. Nice work, Lupin."

Teddy made to leave, but then stopped. "Hey…" he said. "Do you know why the Ministry of Magic received a grant from the Foster Family Foundation?"

Jamila looked surprised for the briefest moment, a manic glint in her eye, before she resumed her normal demeanor. She shrugged. "The Foster Family Foundation?"

"Yes. One of the…victims—she was visiting the Ministry prior to her being infected to check up on the work of a grant that her family gave to the Ministry. But I'm confused why the Ministry of Magic would pursue a grant from a Muggle family foundation. Wouldn't the financials alone violate the International Statute of Secrecy?"

Jamila bit her lip now, looking thoughtful. "Hm," she replied. "That _is_ curious. I can certainly ask Captain Potter when I brief him. I'm not privy to major financial decisions made within the Ministry. But we know he's got a good relationship with the Minister of Magic."

Teddy grinned. "Understatement of the year."

Suddenly, a voice came from Jamila's office. "Auror Khan? This is Jackson calling in."

"Ah, blast!" Jamila said. "Thanks, Lupin. Keep up the good work!" She dashed back inside her office, and Teddy took his leave.

It wasn't until he was down in the massive atrium that he felt a pair of gray eyes following him. He turned abruptly, feeling a chill down his spine as he spotted Hannah Priest perched at the edge of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, her long legs crossed as she beamed at Teddy. She raised her hand in a gesture of recognition, and he found himself raising his own hand, waving to her.

"Hey," he said, approaching her.

"Hello," she replied, her full lips stretched into a grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I got your owl, but, er, I got busy. Sorry."

Hannah shrugged. "When I didn't hear back from you, I assumed you had gotten back together with Valerie."

"Victoire."

Hannah's grin widened. "Ah, yes," she said. "French for _victory_. What a curious name."

"We're not back together," Teddy said, not sure why he was spouting off that he and Victoire were not together, not in the least and that he was very much available. Something about Hannah made him confused, his brain muddled by the effect she had on him.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

It was Teddy's turn to grin. "I kind of work here now."

Hannah goggled at him. "You…work here? But you're a writer!"

"I'm a _reporter_ ," he corrected. "Harry—that is, Auror Potter offered me a contract position in his department while they hire more people."

"So…will I see more of you?"

Teddy hesitated. "Hannah," he said. "I'm pretty busy right now." He paused, his brain feeling fuzzy. "But I would like to see you again."

She brightened. "Great!" She hopped off the edge of the fountain, smoothing her thin black dress over her thighs. "See you soon then."

Teddy couldn't help but feel as if Hannah were testing him somehow, and he vowed to see her one last time to tell her that he wasn't interested in her _like that._

* * *

Victoire paced the length of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

_The Ministry. Someone at the Ministry is poisoning these people._

Her heart was hammering against her ribcage, a persistent thundering inside her chest. She checked her watch nervously. It was nearly three; Teddy should be back from his meeting by now. She had to tell him what she'd found. She needed to keep him away from the goddamn Ministry of Magic, where somehow he had managed to snag a job.

 _Nothing is a coincidence,_ she thought. _Avi's illness. Mrs. Garrido coming to her about Greyback. Teddy's job_. Nothing felt like an accident all of a sudden, and she couldn't wait to have Teddy back with her, safe.

After pacing for fifteen more minutes, she contemplated sending her Patronus over to find Teddy. Her panic had started to spike, making her dizzy with the endless possibilities of why he wasn't back yet. _He's in danger,_ her brain repeated. _You have to keep him safe._

Finally, she made to pull out her wand as she heard a soft _whoosh_ and a familiar blue head of hair strolled into the kitchen, shrugging off his bag as he walked in. She flew to him, stopping herself before she had flung her arms around her neck with worry.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" she hissed.

"I told you I had a meeting," he said in an annoyed tone. "Remember? At the Auror office?" He paused, looking down at her. Her face was lined with worry, her lips set in a firm line. "I got us some food?" He gestured at the paper bag he was holding, lifting it up lamely.

"Have you seen Harry?" Victoire asked, ignoring the bag from which were emanating the mouthwatering smells of fish and chips. "We need to go find him immediately."

Teddy set bag down on the table. "I didn't see him," he said. "I don't even know where he is."

"We need to go," Victoire said. "We need to go to the house, find out where he is and tell him what I found."

"Whoa, whoa," Teddy said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Calm down. Let's sit and eat and you can tell me what you found out."

She glared at him, but then her eyes fell, her blonde eyelashes the only thing he could focus on. "Teddy. I think I know what's happening here. Someone at the Ministry is…it's someone at the Ministry!" She reached up to grip his wrist, the two of them holding one another almost combatively, but with a gentleness that each found deeply comforting. She never wanted to let go, his pulse beating valiantly against her fingers, his hands warm on her shoulders.

Teddy nodded, dropping his hands. Victoire felt a lurch of disappointment as she released his wrists. "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

They landed in the Floo Hub at the Ministry of Magic, both dashing across the atrium and mounting the lift, Teddy pushing the button to get him to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Victoire stood a bit behind him. She knew she risked being sent home again if Uncle Harry or Aunt Hermione saw her here, but as long as Teddy was safe, too, she didn't feel too badly about going home now.

Wordless, they leapt off the lift, jogging past a bespectacled house elf who was shouting, "Mr. Lupin! Wait!"

Teddy skidded to a halt, looking around. The glass doors all looked directly into nearly all empty offices. He whirled around, facing Victoire. "You can't be here," he said. "If Harry sees you—"

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. "Of course. Yes."

"Go back downstairs. Wait for me."

Her eyes were wide, unblinking. She reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Remember. Only tell Harry. No one else."

She looked into his eyes, and in that moment, Teddy knew that—at least this time-they understood each other perfectly. She then turned around and walked briskly back toward the lift. Teddy watched her go, her ponytail swaying to and fro as she disappeared down the corridor, slipping into the lift and turning to face him. As the doors closed, he found himself staring directly into her determined eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the doors slid shut before she could and the lift was yanked back abruptly, taking her with him.

He turned back, his head suddenly aching and his mind feeling strangely clear, devoid of all thought except to get to Harry as fast as he could. Victoire would have been proud—she did things with a single-mindedness that he had always admired. He, on the other hand, usually had difficulty making decisions and was unable to commit to much of anything without hemming and hawing about it for days.

He turned and strode down the corridors, unnerved by how empty it was. The normal bustle of this office was replaced by an eerie stillness. Still, Teddy found the glass door with the nickel plaque next to it labeled "Harry Potter. Head Auror." He glanced in, and saw Harry's empty desk. He pushed the glass door open, stepping into the office. He'd been here a number of times, but not since he'd started working here.

The office smelled like Harry, a combination of soap, coffee and an indescribable metallic tang. Teddy closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to be comforted by the familiar aroma. It was, after all, this smell that Teddy had been accustomed to his whole life. Harry, who had been there for him for everything. Harry, who loved Teddy the way he loved his own children. Harry, who never left without saying goodbye and who always came back. Harry, who stayed.

Teddy moved around to Harry's desk, looking at the untidy surface. Despite Harry's valiant attempts to tidy up, he had always been a bit disorganized. Hesitating, Teddy shifted some papers around on the desk, hoping to find something that would tell him where Harry might be at this exact moment. He had contemplated sending an owl or a Patronus, but those would take time, and time they didn't have.

"What are you doing?" A sharp voice sliced through the office. He looked up. Jamila was standing in the office, her eyes narrowed. "You can't be here going through the Captain's stuff."

Teddy jerked his hand away from the desk, a deep flush coming over his cheeks.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Teddy said. "I need to talk to Harry."

"Harry?"

"Er—I mean, Auror Potter."

"And I suppose that's why you've snuck into his office and are snooping through his stuff."

"I'm not _snooping_ ," Teddy said defensively. "I was looking for a calendar because there's no one here—where is everyone by the the way?—and I need to find Harry."

Jamila cleared her throat, and Teddy could tell he was about to be berated. "No one is here, Lupin, because there's an urgent matter that requires nearly all our attention."

"Nearly?"

"I'm here, and a few others. You just happened to drop by after they had left."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's in the field, Lupin."

Teddy's mind swam with panic. His stomach twisted with anxiety. "But he doesn't do field work anymore," Teddy blurted out. "He hasn't since-"

Jamila raised a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there, Lupin. The Head Auror always, _always_ does field work. You're right that he's retired from frequent field work, but we have a operation that is going…badly."

"I _need_ to speak with him!" Teddy said, his voice louder than he'd intended it to be.

"I'm his second in command. Whatever you need to tell him, you can tell me."

Teddy hesitated, and Jamila's cheeks colored. He had embarrassed her by being being reticent; he had questioned her status, which she had inarguably worked hard for. But Victoire had said to keep their findings low key, their suspicions that it could be _anyone_ at the Ministry infecting Muggle-borns with werewolf genes keeping them mum except to Harry.

"Very well," Jamila finished. "If you can't tell me, then it must not be that urgent."

"I need something," Teddy blurted out. "Logs. Visitor logs."

"Visitor logs from where?" Jamila inquired coldly. Teddy knew he had shot his shot with her. She wasn't going to indulge him any longer. She crossed her arms tightly, her dark eyes clouded with judgement.

"From…here."

"The Department's visitor logs are confidential, Lupin. We work with witnesses, who need to be protected."

He shook his head. "No, no…from the Ministry."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What on earth do you need _Ministry of Magic_ visitor logs for?"

"I…can't say."

"Well, you can't get those without Captain Potter's approval. He's the head of the department, and he approves anything of that sort."

"When will he be back?"

Jamila laughed, a cold, mirthless laugh. "Not anytime soon."

"Well—" Teddy sputtered. "Can't _you_ do it? You're my supervisor!"

"Ministry logs are official, government documents, Lupin."

"Then they should be available for the public!"

Jamila dropped her arms in exasperation. "Look, Lupin," she started. "You weren't born yet so you may not remember what happened during the last war. But Voldemort and his followers used those logs to track who came and went from here and for what purpose. They then used that information to see who had power, who had Muggle-born sympathies. He punished those people or used them for his fucked up mission. They've been classified. Only the Minister of Magic and certain department heads can access them en masse. Captain Potter is one of those department heads. Without him, you can't get them."

Teddy's face broke out into a manic grin suddenly, half of an idea knocking around in his head. "You're bloody brilliant, you know that?" Teddy said to Jamila, jogging past her while she stared at him quizzically.

* * *

 

"Nope. No. Way."

"Come on! It's the only way!"

"She'll tell my bloody dad!"

"She won't. Not if you ask her not to."

Victoire glared at Teddy as they walked into a small park to go over what Teddy had discovered.

"Why can't you do it?" she asked him. "Aunt Hermione loves you!"

"I can't go over Harry's head," Teddy explained, slurping an iced coffee from a cup. It was a sweltering day, and all the ice in his cup had melted, leaving behind a watered down mess of coffee and milk. "It'll look bad for my job."

"For the last time, you're a reporter! This is a contract."

"Hermione _adores_ you. She helped you a ton with—" He stopped, not wanting to bring up the Pensieve. Victoire, thankfully, took the hint and stopped.

"What would I even tell her I was doing with the visitor logs? No one knows I'm helping you."

"That we can manage," Teddy said with a grin, and Victoire began to wonder if she'd ever tire of seeing him smile. He looked over at her pleadingly, and she looked back.

Finally, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll do it."

* * *

 

The following morning, Hermione Granger-Weasley, Minister of Magic, had just started sipping her daily morning tea when she noticed the screech owl sitting in her kitchen.

" _Bloody_ hell," she exclaimed, as she had turned to find herself nose-to-beak with the creature. The owl blinked sleepily, and Hermione sighed.

The bird did not startle. It simply stuck its leg out, looking unimpressed. Hermione pulled the scroll of parchment from the owl, gave it an owl nut and watched it raise its mighty wings, sail across her kitchen and out the window. She unrolled the parchment and read:

_Dear Aunt Hermione,_

_I'm in London, and I'm hoping you could sign a letter of recommendation for a Healer program in Peru. Could I drop by your office for you signature today? The deadline is tomorrow, or I wouldn't ask._

_Your niece,_

_Victoire Weasley_

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Victoire had owled Hermione in the past, especially regarding academic matters, but she rarely requested to meet with such urgency.

Hermione of course knew that Victoire was in London, and knew that she was studying at St. Mungo's. She also knew that Victoire wasn't currently in classes at St. Mungo's, and that she had run away not only from her parents from her grandparents as well. Bill and Fleur Weasley had put out an all-points bulletin to the entire Weasley clan requesting that Victoire return to Shell Cottage at once, believing that someone was housing Victoire surreptitiously. As far as Hermione knew, Victoire had taken a several days holiday to escape her stressful family and hadn't shared where she had gone.

She wrote back a quick note, attached it to her own owl's leg and sent it off to Victoire. She then began getting ready for the day, mentally preparing the letter she would write to Bill Weasley about the whereabouts of his daughter.

"Victoire!" Hermione exclaimed as Victoire entered her office. Victoire had tried to clean up before coming to see her aunt, but her t-shirt and jeans still seemed drab and extremely plain next to Hermione's smart, printed robes with the official Ministry of Magic insignia stamped proudly over the heart. "My dear, we've all been worried sick. Your dad's on quite the rampage."

Victoire's stomach dropped. Her parents were panicking, and here she was about to deceive her aunt. "I just—er—needed some peace and quiet. Needed to figure out what's happening next for me."

Hermione nodded. "I very much understand. You're going to Peru?"

"Well, I've been chatting with Uncle Charlie who says there's a need for a Healer trainee in Cusco." This wasn't a _lie_ per se. Victoire had considered taking her uncle up on his offer and joining him in Peru where he was a dragon tender.

"Have you told your mum and dad about leaving to go to South America?"

Victoire shook her head. "I haven't been accepted yet. I need a reference and then I can apply." Again, not quite another lie. She did need a reference—and she had one. Her uncle.

Hermione sighed. "Vic," she started. "I know what you're up to. I know you're working with Teddy."

Victoire tried to contort her face into a kind of amused surprise, but she knew she was failing. She was, and always had been, a terrible liar. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione snorted.

"You're no good at this," Hermione said. "The duplicitous life does not suit you."

"I _did_ help him a _bit_ ," she admitted. "But no more. I just need your signature, Aunt Hermione." _And your silence,_ she thought to herself.

Hermione sighed. "Vic, you're an adult. But I wish you'd tell us all what's going on with you. You and Teddy…everything that's happened…"

"It's not about that," Victoire said sharply, and Hermione knew to drop the subject.

"Very well, dear. Let's see that letter of recommendation."

Victoire reached into her purse, and pulled out a rolled up scroll of parchment tied with a blue ribbon. She handed it across the desk to Hermione. Her aunt took the scroll and unrolled it, perched her eyeglasses on her nose and began to read.

Victoire took this time to look around Hermione's circular office. The office was big, high-ceilinged, nearly the size of the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, and well-furnished. Hermione sat behind a magnificent, gleaming oak desk, and Victoire herself was perched on a comfortable yet elegant upholstered chair. The large windows behind Hermione's desk were bewitched to look like London, and Victoire couldn't help but admire the magic. The streets were bustling with people, and the bridge even had cars driving back and forth on it. The rest of the wall was, of course, bookshelves.

Hermione's term as Minister of Magic had been peaceful and prosperous. The Magical economy usually hummed around with little interruption from the Ministry, but Hermione's various interventions had somehow resulted in a jobs boom, with a number of industries popping up out of nowhere. Hermione's chief accomplishment thus far, though, had been her Elf Emancipation Act, a tricky piece of legislation that guaranteed freedom to all house elves in the magical world. House elves were now guaranteed wages, health benefits and vacation, and all class of magical creatures were given full voting rights.

"Well, this looks about right," Hermione said, pulling off her glasses and smiling up at Victoire. "I didn't know you were interested in South America."

Victoire nodded fervently, letting some hair escape from her ponytail. "Oh yeah," she replied. "Uncle Charlie's been trying to get me to come down there for ages and with everything happening here—" She gestured fruitlessly. "I figured Peru was safe. Their Healer is retiring at the end of next year, and they'll need a new one soon enough."

Hermione smiled again. "Ah, adventure," she sighed, grabbing a fancy looking ink pen. "I always wanted to travel. See the world."

"You still have time," Victoire said, her eyes focused beadily on the pen.

Hermione laughed. "I do a bit of travelling for this job, mind you," she said, chuckling and still holding the pen. How much damn time did it take to sign something anyway? "Just last month I went to beautiful Canada!"

Victoire smiled, and then realizing that Hermione was making a joke, she attempted a feeble laugh. "I've heard good things."

"Have you, dear?" Hermione said, now peering down at the paper she was holding. "Where would you like for me to sign?"

Victoire stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over and went around the desk, trying not to seem hurried. "Oh, er, right there." She pointed at a small X at the bottom of the paper.

Hermione poised her pen for a moment, and Victoire began to wonder if she was ever going to sign the damn thing when Hermione scrawled her neat, curved signature on the paper. "Here you are, Vic," she said, handing Victoire the paper.

"Oh, _thank you_ so much, Aunt Hermione," Victoire said, stowing the paper away in her purse and turning to leave.

"One moment, Vic," Hermione said. Victoire resisted groaning. She needed to leave—but Teddy would want her to stay. She was terrible at lying and the less time she had to do this, the better it would be.

"Yes?"

"Your dad's worried sick about you," Hermione said, gesturing that Victoire should sit down. "I should be honest—I was surprised you contacted me for such a small matter as a reference letter." Hermione paused, her intelligent brown eyes boring in Victoire's. "Has something happened at home?"

"What? No. Everything's fine."

"Why have you run away?"

Victoire swallowed hard. She felt beads of sweat break out onto her brow and upper lip, and her heart hammered inside her chest. "I haven't… _run away,"_ she started, trying her mightiest to not sound frustrated with her aunt. "I'm just…on sabbatical. From them."

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "You've always been the best behaved, Vic," Hermione said. "You love your family."

Now Victoire felt a twinge of annoyance. _Is it any of your business?_ "I'm not…misbehaving," she said. "I just need a break from them. I'm not a child, but since I've moved back in with them, they keep treating me like one. This isn't what I wanted, you know. I…had plans. I was going to live…in London."

Hermione's expressed softened slightly. "I know it's been hard for you. I know things didn't turn out the way you expected them to, and I'm sorry for that.

The two women stared at each other, and Victoire could have sworn she saw Hermione's eyes glisten momentarily before she looked down and then up again in rapid succession. "Call your mum, Vic," Hermione said. "She wants to hear from you."

" _Please_ don't tell them I was here," Victoire said, feeling humiliated by the begging tone in her voice. "I'll call them. But I need to do it…alone."

Hermione smiled, and then stood up. Victoire followed her lead as they walked to the door together. Hermione set her slender hand on the doorknob, and turned to Victoire. "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"Harry."

Teddy gaped as Victoire presented the signed paper to him, brandishing it like a banner in front of his face.

"I can't _believe_ she didn't check it!"

"You said it yourself: she trusts me," Victoire said, ignoring the guilty squirm in her chest.

"She bloody well does."

They stared at the paper Hermione signed, now transfigured back into its original form: a letter allowing Teddy to get out as many Ministry of Magic Visitor's Logs as he pleased.

"Well?" Victoire asked, breaking the silence. "What are you waiting for? Go get the logs."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be waiting. I'll be here waiting for you." She sat down on the little sofa in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.

He grinned at her, and left. She could hear him jogging down the stairs, and then she heard the door close. She waited a beat, making sure he was gone, that he hadn't forgotten anything.

And then she cried, burying her face in her hands. She wasn't sure why she was crying at first, but images raced through her mind as she unleashed a torrential rush of tears. Avi and his freckles. Her dad, grinning at her. Hermione, looking at her with pure trust. She saw Harry and Ginny and Dominique and Bianca. And then, finally, she saw Teddy—how he was the day they had broken up: stoic, insistent, and most of all, not in love with her.

"The Minister signed this?" the house elf behind the visitor's desk said, raising her eyebrows.

"That's her signature." Teddy resisted the urge to snatch the paper back and run away.

"Let me just give her office a call," the house elf said, lifting her long-fingered hand, ready to call her own Patronus. Teddy was curious—he had never seen a house elf's Patronus before—but he knew that he could not let the elf call Hermione's office.

"Are you sure you want to bother her?" Teddy said. "With everything going on?"

The house elf looked appraisingly at Teddy, but then shrugged. "Very well," she squeaked. "I'll be right back."

Teddy wasn't sure how long he was waiting, but when the elf returned, she was holding a slim book with an emerald green cover. She set it down on the desk in front of Teddy. He picked it up—it felt light, like a feather.

"This is it?"

"You search by date," the elf said.

Teddy opened the book tentatively. The first page was blank, and when he flipped cursorily through the pages, he found that they were all blank.

"Er—sorry, but— _how?"_

The elf tutted impatiently. "Speak the date into the spine."

Teddy grabbed the book, thanked the elf, and made his way into the atrium of the Ministry. It was nearly empty, and after making sure neither Hermione nor Harry were there, he whispered, "Fifth July," into the spine of the book. It quivered in his hand and then sprang open. Each page was now filled with names in all different kinds of handwriting.

His eyes scanned down the page until he found Gideon Tate's spiky signature. His finger glided over the entry. Gideon entered the Ministry in the morning. And he was visiting—

Teddy's breath caught in his throat when he saw the name, right there, plain as day.

_Hannah Priest._

* * *

**Author's Note(s):**

1\. Chapter hasn't been edited so sorry about that! I proofread for any major issues, but please let me know if you spot anything.

2\. Next chapter is being drafted right now! Stay tuned!

3. Thanks to **CanadianHogwarts** & **potters** for leaving reviews  & kudos. Y'all are the best. Read and review if you dig the story. :)


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

 

_Hannah Priest._

Teddy's head swam, drowning in the events of the last few weeks. Hannah's grant. Mollie Foster. Gideon Tate. All the Muggle-borns at St. Mungo's. _Victoire._

Victoire. He had to get back to her. He had to tell her what he knew, about Hannah, about his failure to get to know her, about how Hannah had led Victoire to putting herself in extraordinary danger. Hannah had led Victoire here like a predator leading its prey, and using Teddy as bait while she did it. Was Victoire next?

He dashed across the Atrium and leapt into one of the fireplaces, glittering fiery green and yellow. "Twelve Grimmauld Place," he choked out, and in a blur of heat, he was deposited squarely into the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.

"Vic?" he called cautiously, his heart beating a staccato rhythm against his chest. "Victoire?" Panicked, clutching the visitors' logs in his hand, he raced through the rooms of Grimmauld Place, calling her name, his brain foggy with panic. In each room, his voice echoed weirdly. "Vic! Vic!" But the house was empty. She wasn't there.

* * *

Victoire jumped when she saw the huge, shaggy wolf ambling toward her. It was pure white, all light and it had Teddy's eyes. _Where are you? Where are you? I'll come find you. Tell me where you are._ His voice came in a whisper, but was laced with panic.

The wolf disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. She stood up from the ground at St. Mungo's hospital. She had left Grimmauld Place not even ten minutes ago, opting to sneak back into the wing of St. Mungo's were Avi was. He was still in his wolf-form, and when she peered in to the square window on the door, he had bound up to the window and gazed so intensely into her eyes that she thought he could see right into her soul, into her magic. When the Patronus wolf had jogged up to her, she was sitting with her back to Avi's door, remembering the first day she had seen Avi-tanned and curly-haired and freckley and so over-the-top friendly.

She sent her own lioness back to Teddy. "I'm at St. Mungo's. Where are you? I'll come to you."

Her Patronus-a gleaming lioness-leapt away, disappearing into thin air. Moments later, Victoire felt a surge of heat in the pocket of her jeans. _The ring_. She yanked it out, the gold glinting in the dim lamplight of the corridor. Gently, she placed it in her palm, closing her fingers around it. She saw Teddy's flat, the neatly made bed, a tea kettle sitting on the stovetop and she knew.

Sliding the ring back onto her finger, she placed a gentle hand on the door that led to Avi's cell. "I'll be back," she whispered to him. "I'm coming back to help you."

And with a swift turn, she was gone.

* * *

" _Hannah?"_ Victoire hissed in disbelief. "Your...girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend, for Merlin's sake!"

"You're pretty fucking _friendly,_ if I recall," Victoire said, shifting her weight so she could lean back and glare at him. A pink tinge crept up his neck, and suddenly she felt guilty giving him a hard time about his relationship with Hannah. _He couldn't have known,_ she reminded herself firmly.

They stared at each other contemplatively for a moment, and Victoire felt her stomach writhe with discomfort. Her mind felt fuzzy, like the static in the air right before a terrible storm, and as she stared into Teddy's eyes, she found herself feeling even more confused. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that she couldn't name but only feel, and she felt a crackle between them before she forced herself to look away. Teddy cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"I need to tell Harry," he muttered.

"Where is he?"

"He's in the field right now. I can't reach him."

"Tell, um, his number two!" Victoire exclaimed.

"She told me I can't get the logs," he said. "She'll be pissed and fire me."

Victoire threw up her hands in exasperation. " _You have another job!"_ she hissed. " _Who cares if she fires you?"_

Teddy blushed again. The truth was that, despite the overwhelming evidence that the witch he'd been hooking up with for a few months now was infecting Muggleborns with werewolf's blood, he had been enjoying the last few days at the Ministry. He had always liked research and putting together puzzles, but it had never felt real or consequential until now. The lives of hundreds of people were in his-and Victoire's-hands, and whether that was accidental or not, he felt like his work suddenly mattered.

"I'm going to confront Hannah," he said finally.

" _What-the-hell-Lupin!"_ Victoire said. "You're going to _confront_ a mad witch who could very feasibly turn you into a werewolf? You know what she's capable of!"

"She won't," he said. "She's targeting Muggleborns. I'm pure blood. She won't touch me."

"Let me come with you," Victoire demanded.

"No!" he said. "It's too dangerous."

"I'm pureblood, too! What's she gonna do to me?"

"It has to be me."

" _No."_ Her voice came out strangled, and she was horrified to realize that she was choking back tears. She blinked forcefully, trying valiantly to hold back the tidal wave prickling the backs of her eyes.

" _Yes."_

* * *

Teddy sat nervously in his flat the following day. He was fidgeting with a thread sticking out of the knee of his jeans. _One more pull and these jeans are done for_ , he thought idly, yanking the thread regardless.

A knock at the door roused him from his trance. Clearing his throat, he called, "Coming!" and covered the distance between himself and the door in three long strides.

Hannah Priest stood on the doormat. The doormat, Teddy realized with a start, that Fleur Weasley had given him when he'd moved to London. "Hey there," Hannah said, leaning up and giving Teddy a peck on the cheek. He worked hard not to reel back in revulsion. Instead, he gingerly placed a hand on the small of her back and led her into the flat.

"Did you clean?" she asked, dropping her purse into a chair and looking around.

"I did," he admitted. "Just wanted to make a good impression."

She raised one dark eyebrow quizzically. "You know we've already slept together," she giggled. "You don't need to impress me now."

He shrugged, his heart hammering so hard that he was worried she would see it. He took a deep breath, and gave Hannah what he hoped was a stern look. He didn't want her to think that this was anything other than what he intended for it to be: a chance for her to confess.

The plan he and Victoire had worked out together had come together pretty simply. Hannah was Greyback's heir. The grant she had received from the Foster Family Foundation had been granted under false pretenses. Hannah had told Mollie Foster that she was researching how Muggle-borns got their magic with the idea that understanding that Muggle-borns didn't _steal_ magic from magical people would help alleviate some of the stigma and discrimination that Muggle-borns still experienced in the wizarding world. At least that had been Mollie's idea. Hannah had, of course, had her own aims.

Victoire had wanted Teddy to bind Hannah, to force her into confessing what she had done to the Muggle-borns currently indisposed at St. Mungo's. Teddy had refused. "She needs to confess without coercion," he reminded her. "Otherwise it's inadmissible in the Wizengamot."

He cleared his throat, refocusing back on Hannah. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he said, hoping he sounded somber. She was sitting cooly on the sofa, her long, tanned leg crossed over the other one lazily, her bare foot bobbing up and down. "There's something-"

"Teddy," she interrupted. "You really don't have to do this."

He stared.

"You don't have to do this noble breakup nonsense. I can take a hint. I know you've been seeing your ex."

Teddy shook his head. "Nope, sorry," he said. "It's not, er, that. We're not seeing each other, she and I. We're working together."

"Working together? You with a Healer?"

"Yeah. She was the first Healer to see one of the Muggle-born patients, you see," Teddy said, keeping his voice balanced. "And her...boyfriend. He's one of the ones affected."

A small wrinkled appeared between Hannah's eyebrows. "That's really unfortunate," she said in a low voice. "I'm so sorry for her." Teddy noticed that her eyes stayed cold. _She's not a great actor after all,_ he thought, feeling deeply stupid. She had fooled him, and in his stupor, he had missed all the clues.

He sat down on the other end of the sofa, turning his body to face her. "It's weird, right?" he said. "That the Muggle-borns seem to be drawn to her."

Hannah's brown smoothed again. "Seems like a terribly timed coincidence, Teddy," she said, scooting closer to him. "But did you call me here to talk about Victoria?"

"Victoire," he corrected, implusively. Vic _hated_ being called Victoria. "It's French," he added, when Hannah stared at him.

"Vic _toire,"_ Hannah drawled, a smirk on her lips now. Her hand crept toward him, but he stood up again.

"You know what else is weird?"

She sighed impatiently. "What?"

"That the Muggle-borns all came to see you before they transformed."

There was a silence from her. He stared down at her, watching her gnaw her full bottom lip.

"I know who you are," Teddy stated clearly to her. "I know what you've done."

She looked up at him now, and he was startled to see malice in those gray eyes, familiar but not so familiar anymore. She stood up now, and he suddenly realized that she was holding her wand. He reached for his, tucked safely into his pocket, but there was a flash of blue light and blinding pain.

And then there was darkness.

* * *

Teddy's apartment looked untouched. The same coffee mug from earlier rested on the coffee table. His blue jacket hung neatly by the door, his three pairs of shoes arranged tidily on a shoe rack underneath. There was nothing to indicate that everything hadn't gone exactly as planned.

Except that Teddy wasn't here.

Victoire walked through the flat, careful not to touch anything. She had arrived at the flat at their pre-planned meeting time, knocking for a full five minutes before using _Alohomora_ and sneaking in.

"Teddy?" she called. "Teddy!" Her voice cut through the stillness, sounding like an alarm in an empty building. She wanted to call for him again, but she knew he wasn't here. A panic began to blur the edges of her vision. She blinked hard, feeling helpless.

A stillness had descended upon the rooms. As she crept across the carpeted living room, she realized that she was holding her breath in anticipation. She walked into Teddy's bedroom, the bed still unmade, but the rest of the room was otherwise pristine. His desk was stacked neatly with books. The nightstand held a small lamp, an alarm clock and another book. Family photos lined the windowsill. Victoire leaned in to get a closer look. A photo of Teddy as a little boy with his gran. Another one of Teddy with Harry at his Hogwarts graduation. A photo of Teddy with all the Weasley cousins, his tanned, lean face smiling toothily at the camera. And finally, a photo of Teddy and Victoire at Hogwarts, his arm around her shoulders, her eyes crinkled with laughter, both in their school uniforms. Victoire had the same photo, the one she had hidden from Aunt Ginny on her first day at the Potters' just a few weeks ago.

After a thorough search of the flat, she finally collapsed on top of Teddy's mussed sheets. She closed her eyes suddenly, two fat tears leaking down her cheeks. " _Teddy_ ," she whispered. " _Where are you?"_

She opened her eyes, grasped the ring on her finger and turned it in a full circle. She waited it to heat up in response, but it didn't. She turned it again and again, wishing over and over that he'd reply.

Many miles away, Teddy Lupin felt his ring flash with a smoldering heat but he couldn't do anything about it because he was bound with rope at the top of a strange tower in a very strange castle.

* * *

When Teddy came to, he had found himself alone. His head throbbed, and he was freezing cold.

He looked around. He was in a room made of glossy black stone, stone so glossy that it reflected his face right back at him. He looked a wreck. Above him, a tiny, barred window let in three tiny slivers of moonlight. The circular room gave him a distinctly claustrophobic feeling-and it wasn't because he was bound with glittering, gold ropes to a pillar right in the center of the room. The odd stone was so dark, so reflective that he felt as if he were in a void-a void that was expansive and vast and narrow and restrictive all at once. He couldn't see where the walls began or where they ended. Were it not for the miniscule window, he would have the distinct feeling of being encased in a perfect sphere.

He leaned his aching head back on the pillar and tried to recall what had happened at his flat, but after the flash of blue light, he remembered nothing. _How many days had it been?_

The chamber was freezing cold. _Is it winter,_ he thought to himself dully. The full moon shone brightly through the small window, betraying no sense of the time of day. Only empty, unending night. Teddy closed his eyes, wondering how he had let Hannah Priest overpower him, and feeling grateful that Victoire hadn't been there like she had originally wanted.

A section of the smooth, glassy wall slid open and Hannah strolled in, holding two wands, a wicked smile plastered profanely on her face.

"Hey!" Teddy yelled, recognizing one of the wands. "That's _mine_."

"Oh, well done, Lupin," Hannah said, rolling her eyes. "Next you're going to ask me where we are."

He glared at her. She chuckled. "So, figured it out, have we?"

"It would be kind of hard not to figure it out," he spat, struggling against his binds. "Since you _abducted me_ after I found you out."

"I barely scratched the surface, Lupin." Her voice was a low, dangerous purr now, sauntering toward him. His aching head was now excruciating, but he gave nothing away as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You're just like me."

"Why am I here, Hannah?"

She stared fixedly at him, her eyes unreadable. He felt the warmth of her body as she leaned in close.

"I need you," she said. "I need another like me to fulfill my destiny." He waited, his breath stuck in his throat. "The Muggleborns-I've been infecting them with my tests at the Ministry. I sent them to St. Mungo's so your little blonde friend would see them."

"Why?"

"So she'd come running to you," Hannah said, now pacing slowly in front of Teddy. "I must admit, it threw a wrench in my plans when you ditched her last summer." Now his mouth opened in surprise. She noticed his expression and laughed cruelly, the sound echoing off the walls.

"Oh, yes. I've been planning this for a very long time. It's not every day that two of my father's prized victims' children fall in love."

"Your-father?"

"Fenrir Greyback," Hannah said, her voice now filled with pride. "Loyal servant to The Dark Lord only to be maligned and shunned from the rank of Death Eater." She paused. "Alas, no matter. They will pay for their hateful crimes."

"We're not-Death Eaters," Teddy said. "That has nothing to do with us."

"Doesn't it?" Hannah eyes flashed. "All of you wizards hated the werewolves. You saw what it did to your own pathetic father. You did the tests when you were just a cub. You know how wizards forced werewolves to go underground, live in filth, survive off rats and birds. Your precious _godfather_ , Harry Potter, responsible for the most werewolf executions of our time."

Teddy was silent. He had heard about the executions, but had dismissed them as propaganda from the pro-werewolf integration campaigns.

"You wizards are so arrogant. You think you'll always win, and once you've won, you think you'll stay in power." She stopped pacing. "Well, _you_ will stay in power, Teddy Lupin. But the rest of your family-they're not really your family, are they?-won't be so lucky."

"W-what?"

Hannah smirked. "You'll see, Lupin."

* * *

_The blue haired boy was running again, and she couldn't seem to catch up to him._

" _I want to see them!" he cried, running toward two huddled figures._

" _No!" she cried. "You can't." She grabbed him as he was a few feet away. "You can't go."_

_His eyes bore into hers. "Why?"_

" _They're gone," she whispered. "But I need you here."_

" _I'm gone, too," he said, and stepped in front of an oncoming train._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

1\. Thanks for the comments & kudos, **beaubcxton, alltheseghosttowns,** & **CanadianHogwarts**! 

2. Sorry for the delay and sorry this one is a little short. I took a little break to buy a house, but I'm back! Read & review if you'd like. :)


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

 

Victoire didn’t know how long she had been at Teddy’s when she was roughly shaken awake.

“Whoossit?” she mumbled, lifting her head slightly to see two blurry, semi-human shapes materializing in front of her.

“It’s us, idiot,” said a familiar voice.

“ _Bianca?”_ Victoire said, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and sitting up too suddenly, making her head spin. “Whoa.” She put a stabilizing hand to her head, and weakly opened her eyes.

The dark haired Chaser peered down at her quizzically. Next to her stood another familiar face: Dominique. 

“How did you find...?”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Where the hell else would you be? Dom’s been trying to reach you for days, and she owled me immediately. We looked two places, and _voila--_ here you are.”

“Urgh, don’t say _voila--_ you sound like my mum,” Dominique said, flopping down on the bed next to Victoire. “What _happened_ to you? Teddy shows up at the cottage, you leave Gran’s and next thing I know, you won’t answer owls and Aunt Hermione is calling dad in a panic.” 

“ _Aunt Hermione_ ,” Victoire groaned, scooting over so Bianca could sit next to her. “I told her not to say anything to dad!” There was an awkward silence as Bianca and Dominique gazed at Victoire, taking in her haggard appearance. Her t-shirt bore the wrinkles of a good sleep, and she was still wearing her jeans and her trainers.

“Maybe he went on holiday?” Dominique suggested, grinning.

“No, he’s in trouble,” Victoire said. “I don’t know what kind of trouble but…” She hesitated. “There’s this woman he’s...he knows. And I think he must be with her.”

Dominique looked salty. “A _woman?”_

“This lady from the Ministry of Magic. Someone named Hannah Priest.” Victoire looked at both of them. Dominique’s face stayed placid, her eyes gazing at Victoire with an uncomfortable intensity. But Bianca…

Bianca’s eyebrows shot up. “Hannah Priest?” she asked. “She’s that magical researcher in the Department of Mysteries.”

“ _Magical researcher?”_ Victoire said. “How do you know about her?”

“She in almost every article about the new research into werewolves,” Bianca said. “Don’t you read Teddy’s column?”

Victoire shook her head.

“Ah, well, serves him right,” Bianca said. “Anyway, Dr. Priest gave a lecture last year at St. Mungo’s about new developments in the Wolfsbane Potion, but how there’s no one to test it on since all the werewolves have gone underground and how we need to welcome them back into society.“

“Last year?” Victoire thought about how she would have heard that lecture, listened to Dr. Priest talk about werewolves if she hadn’t deferred her acceptance to St. Mungo’s.

Bianca nodded. “I was there for my physical for Puddlemere when I saw her.”

Dominique laughed. “She wants us to _welcome_ werewolves to live among wizards? Tell that to maman and dad.” Victoire knew what Dominique meant. Since her father’s attack by Fenrir Greyback, her parents were less than friendly to the idea of _more_ werewolves in their community.

“She had a point,” Bianca said. “She was saying how we could develop all these great antidotes if werewolves and vampires and others with chronic ailments could live among us so we could treat them. They wouldn’t have to hide out for fear of persecution.”

Dominique shook her head. “My dad gets sick every full moon because of that bastard Greyback. I’m not welcoming _his_ kind back into our lives.”

“Teddy’s dad,” Victoire whispered. “Teddy’s dad was a werewolf, and he lived among us. He got married and had a kid, too. And he fought in the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“Oh, Vic--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” Victoire held up a hand to stop her sister.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” she said. “We need to find Hannah Priest.”

The three young witches stood in Teddy’s bedroom in a circle, each looking more puzzled than the next.

* * *

Teddy had maneuvered himself into a seated position, but his binds were still on. He hadn’t seen Hannah in about twelve hours, but the tower seemed to buzz with a kind of electricity.

 

An ugly, wrinkled house elf delivered Teddy a kind of unidentifiable mush for breakfast. At least Teddy thought it was breakfast.

 

“I’m supposed to feed it to you,” the house elf said sullenly.

 

“No thanks,” Teddy said, wrinkling his nose at the mush. “No chance you’ve got a bacon sandwich hidden in that dishrag you’re wearing, eh?”

 

The house elf gave Teddy a loathsome look.

 

“On second thought, I probably don’t want to eat something from under your grubby little outfit.”

 

“I do not take kindly to insults.”

 

“Funny, with a face like that, I figured you’d be used to it by now.”

 

“Insolent man,” the house elf intoned. “Don’t eat then.”

 

“Alright, alright, I insist: feed me the mush,” Teddy called. His stomach was grumbling, and he knew he needed to eat eventually.

 

The house elf lifted a metal spoon to Teddy’s lips. Teddy swallowed the flavorless glob with great difficulty; the texture was rubbery, and he could barely choke it down. He’d eaten about half the bowl before he turned his face away, nauseated.

 

“No more.”

 

“Very well.” The elf turned to leave.

 

“Oi!” Teddy hollered. “When’s she plan to let me go? I’ve kind of got plans tonight.”

 

But the elf left, leaving Teddy still restrained.

* * *

 

“No, you don’t understand. I _must_ speak with him.”

 

Victoire pressed her slick palms together in a motion that she hoped looked like begging, because the house elf in front of her was seemingly incapable of being wheedled.

 

The night before, the night that Teddy had seemingly disappeared, she had told Bianca and Dominique all the events of the past few weeks. About the patients at St. Mungo’s and Mrs. Garrido and Avi. How she and Teddy had visited Mollie Foster’s family and Colin MacLeod’s estranged father and how Hannah Priest had spun a web so dense, so thick that Victoire couldn’t see what was going to happen next.

 

In the morning, the three young women had sat at Teddy’s tiny kitchen table over tea, each looking drawn and tired after a sleepless night, when Bianca had spoken up.

 

“If he’s really, er, missing,” she had started. “He won’t show up to work today, right?”

 

The two Weasley sisters stared at her. Bianca swallowed hard, the knot in her throat growing nonetheless. She had known Victoire now for nearly ten years, and Dominique only a few years less, and she knew that despite their differences, the sisters were eerily alike. For one, they had the exact same voice. For another, they both tended to forget the simplest explanation, instead jumping to conclusions. Bianca hadn’t wanted to admit it, but perhaps Teddy had simply been too taken with Hannah the day before and had spent the night at her place.

 

“He _is_ missing, though,” Victoire said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you don’t believe me! No one does!” She pushed back her chair in anger, but Dominique placed a placating hand on her sister’s forearm.

 

“Bianca’s got a point,” she said. “We should go see if he’s at work.”

 

And that was how Victoire had ended up here, back at the Ministry of Magic, in front of a tall desk with a tiny little house elf behind it who refused to give her any status information on anyone about anything.

 

“You don’t understand,” she wheedled, flicking her eyes to the certificate of recognition that sat on the elf’s desk. “Narberth, I have an appointment with Teddy...I mean, er, Mr. Lupin! If you just called back to his office, he’d let you know.”

 

She quietly chastised herself for lying as much as she had the past few weeks, and resolved to be very, very honest from now on. At least until after she found Teddy.

 

The elf was shaking his head, making his enormous ears flap slightly. Normally, this would have made her laugh, but she was filled a mirthless anxiety that radiated from her toes to the tips of her white blonde hair. She imagined herself as a glass of water left under a running tap, constantly overflowing, just waiting for someone else to turn off the tap. She felt constantly on the verge of tears, and with everything that was happening, she felt like all the progress she’d made in the last year had vanished. Every anxiety, every crippling doubt crept into her brain since she’d first seen Mrs. Garrido, heard her begging voice, and threatened to tear her apart.

 

“I can’t help you,” Narberth the Elf said in a high voice. “I cannot divulge where any of our agents are at any time. Surely you understand.”

 

She nodded fervently. “I understand completely,” she replied, trying to keep her face earnest. “But Mr. Lupin asked me to come here to meet with him.”

 

“That is highly unlikely as he is a contractor and is free to come and go as he pleases.”

 

“But he _told_ me to come here.” Another lie. She was _pretty_ sure she didn’t wince this time, and she felt a surge of pride at her ability to lie without flinching followed by a second surge of guilt. _What would Gran think of me now?_

 

“What’s going on?” said a voice from the hallway that led directly into where Victoire needed to go. Victoire peered in the direction of the voice, and saw a young, pretty woman striding toward her.

 

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Victoire said, trying not to sound too earnest. “My name is Dr. Hannah Priest. I have an appointment with Teddy Lupin, who told me to meet him here.”

 

Jamila stared at Victoire. “Doctor?”

 

“Yes,” Victoire replied, without skipping a beat. “I’m a researcher in the Department of Mysteries, and Mr. Lupin wanted to ask me some questions about my research. He said it was urgent.”

 

“Impossible,” the pretty woman said, shaking her head. Her long, dark ponytail swung mightily. “Aurors don’t take meetings from random Ministry personnel in our offices. Imagine how ridiculous that would be. You need to be background checked.”

 

 _Of course._ Victoire racked her brain, trying to find something.

 

“Besides,” the woman continued. “Lupin’s not even here. Hasn’t been here in two days.”

 

“Oh. How...odd.” She felt her heart begin to constrict tightly, the anxiety surging back through her veins. “Well, perhaps I got my days wrong.” As she made to turn away, the woman grabbed her upper arm gently.

 

“Priest, did you say?”

 

“Yes. In the Department of Mysteries.”

 

The woman looked thoughtful. “I can find out where he is,” she said. “Our department has...ways.”  

 

“You track your staff?”

 

“It’s a dangerous job!”

 

“Of course.”

 

The two women stood awkwardly in front of each other, before Victoire extended her hand. “Can I come by tomorrow perhaps? Mr. Lupin really did say it was urgent, and I’ll be ending my contract by the end of the week. Busy schedule, you see.”

 

The dark-haired woman nodded. “Of course. Come by tomorrow.” She paused. “I’m Jamila, by the way. Jamila Khan.”

 

Victoire nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Khan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

She walked away, leaving Jamila staring after her with a puzzled expression on her face. 

* * *

 When Victoire boarded the lift the following day to go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she felt a small flicker of hope flare in her stomach. Jamila Khan had a way to find out where Teddy was. She was going to help her rescue him. Her longing to see Teddy felt almost like a shock to her system after the months that she had spent tamping that feeling down.

 

“Ah, I see you got my message,” Jamila said, looking up as Victoire deboarded the lift. “Thanks for coming straight away.”

 

“Er, yes,” Victoire said, not having the faintest idea what she was talking about. She hadn’t received an owl. “Thank you for meeting me…” she paused. “..again,” she added.

 

“Yes, well, let’s get to it, shall we?” Jamila said. “I used our location systems, and Lupin appears to be in the North Sea. He’s on assignment, so I’m not sure why he asked you here when he clearly is going to be away. I apologize for the confusion, but I’m sure he’ll contact you when he’s returned.”

 

“The North Sea? Bit of an odd place for a summer holiday, isn’t it?”

 

“Like I said, he’s on assignment,” Jamila replied curtly. “He should be back any day now, maybe even by the end of the day today. I’ll let him know you dropped by, Dr. Priest.”

 

Victoire swallowed hard. _The North Sea?_ Had Teddy gone back to Azkaban? Had Hannah dragged him there?”

 

“Well, th--thank you, Auror Khan.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” Jamila said, smiling brightly at Victoire. “Anything else I can help you with, Dr. Priest?”

 

Victoire shook her head quietly, and turned to head back toward the lift. As she approached the lift, the bell dinged brightly and the doors slid open. Victoire gasped.

 

The real Hannah Priest was standing in the lift.

 

* * *

 

 

“You!” Victoire gasped, stepping into the lift without another thought. Her mind was screaming _No!_ But her body moved without hesitation into Hannah’s circumference.

 

“Hello.” Hannah smiled, and Victoire might have found her smile warm at one time, but instead she felt revolted at the sight of the gleaming teeth, the grey eyes flecked with yellow, and the pale, pointed face. And then came a twinge of shame at that feeling. Hannah was, after all, like Teddy.

 

“Where is Teddy?” Victoire demanded. “What have you done with him?”

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Hannah asked mockingly.

 

Victoire growled low in her throat. Her pulse was pounding, her mind racing and landing nowhere.

 

“You _know_ ,” she said, gritting her teeth. A jolt of adrenaline hit her at once as the lift lurched upward, and she closed the gap between herself and Hannah in one long stride, clamping her hand on Hannah’s upper arm. “Tell me what you want with him. _Tell me now_.” She shook Hannah roughly, and Hannah let her, still with that wide grin adorning her face.

 

“He doesn’t want you,” Hannah replied, ignoring Victoire’s hand on her arm. “He wants nothing to do with you. Don’t you remember?”

 

And as Victoire peered into Hannah’s curiously beautiful face, she felt a memory flood her mind with such force that she closed her eyes, staggering back, releasing Hannah’s arm.

 

_I don’t love you anymore._

_Why why why why why tell me why won’t you tell me the truth._

_It is the truth this is the truth the truth is I don’t love you. I never have I never have I never have._

_I never want to see you again._

And then it was over. Victoire gasped, opening her eyes.

 

“Get the _bloody_ hell out of my head!” she felt her mouth say, but her mind was blank with the shock. Hannah was a Legilimens. She knew _everything_ about Teddy. And now she could know everything about Victoire, too. Victoire felt a wave of fear now. What couldn’t Hannah do? What wasn’t she capable of?

 

Hannah strode forward now, gripping Victoire’s arm in the exact same way Victoire had gripped her own arm not moments before.

 

“You came here looking for Teddy, didn’t you?” she hissed in a low growl.

 

Victoire nodded, feeling Hannah’s hot breath on her ear.

 

“It was me,” Hannah said, louder this time. “I set the trap. You see, I need Teddy. I need him to rule beside me.”

 

“Rule--?”

 

“And I need you,” Hannah said, even louder still. “I need you to make it happen. I need your precious blood to call them.”

 

“My—“

 

But Hannah turned once, sharply, and Victoire, not expecting it, followed her headlong into a whirling mass until at last, they landed on a cold stone floor in a strange castle in the middle of a lashing, thrashing sea.

 

* * *

  

The ugly house elf returned twice more that day, bringing increasingly worse meals each time. Lunch was another mush with what looked like cut up hot dogs mixed in. Dinner was some kind of noodle mush with green mush in it.

 

Teddy forced himself to be fed the unpalatable food. He knew whatever Hannah Priest--was that even her name?--had planned for him, he was going to need his strength.

 

He heard noises all day--clanging noises below him that sounded like there was a massive metalsmith’s workshop below him.

 

After he’d eaten his mealy dinner, he said to the house elf, “So when can I use the loo? I haven’t gone in ages, and I have to piss like a hippogriff.” It was true; he was extremely uncomfortable.

The elf obviously hadn’t thought this part through. He looked deep in thought, and then raised one long finger, touched the golden rope binding Teddy and the rope fell. Teddy’s arms were still tied behind his back.

“How’m I supposed to take a whiz when my hands are tied?” The elf ignored Teddy, waved a hand and the smooth wall slid open. He pushed Teddy out, Teddy stumbling slightly as he made to get his bearings.

He was in a short, narrow corridor lit with a single yellow torch. The entire place smelled strange, though he couldn’t place where he had smelled it before. The elf pushed him again. “Move,” he said rudely. Teddy moved, his legs aching from hours of disuse. He wouldn’t dare turn his Locator Charm while the elf was behind him, watching his every move. He couldn’t even reach the ring with the way his wrists were bound.

The elf pushed him down a short set of stairs, which led to another corridor. Teddy stared longingly at the rest of the stairs, wondering how many of them there were, thinking about his escape from whatever demented thing Hannah was planning. This corridor had windows on one wall, each open, looking out over a wild sea.

“The gentlemen’s room,” the elf indicated, waving his hand again. A wooden door appeared and swung open. Teddy made to walk in, and heard the elf’s shuffling footsteps behind him.

“You’re not _that_ dumb that you think I’m going to let you watch me take a wee,” Teddy exclaimed. The elf shrugged. Teddy shrugged back, then made to unbuckle his belt buckle, but with his hands bound, he couldn’t.

“Elf,” he said. “I’m not having fun asking you this but...you’ll need to unbuckle my pants.” He closed his eyes, hoping that no one ever found out he’d asked an evil house elf to remove his trousers.

When Teddy finished, the elf led him back up the strange, narrow staircase. Teddy stared at the corridors--they were made of a rough hewn stone, very different than the stone of the chamber he was being held in. He could smell a tang of metal in the air.

The elf shoved him back into the chamber and bound him again.

“Aw, come on, less tightly, this time,” Teddy whined obnoxiously.

The elf left.

Teddy lay his head back on the pillar, thinking about how to escape. If only he had his wand. If only he had trusted Victoire. If only he’d…

His eyes closed, he let his mind wander back to Victoire. If she was still wearing her ring, he could escape from here. She’d know he would be here; she’d find and send Harry. She was clever, the best witch he’d ever known.

_Victoire._

Teddy could now hear the pounding of the ocean against the base of the tower, which seemed closer than he remembered. Even if he _could_ escape, he didn’t have a broom. He didn’t know if he could Apparate out of the fortress or the grounds around the fortress, and he had seen enough splinchings to know that he didn’t want to try.  

He tried to think of something pleasant to avoiding thinking about the ropes cutting into his ribs.

The ocean slapping against the walls, the salty sea smell brought Teddy back to last year’s travels with Victoire.

In the days after his birthday and the Pensieve, Teddy could feel himself withdrawing from Victoire. He didn’t want to, and he certainly wasn’t trying to, but something had changed inside him. Victoire would reach for his hand, and he would allow her to hold it ever so briefly before pulling away. He began dreaming about his father.

_I made a grave mistake marrying Tonks. I made a grave mistake marrying Tonks. I made a grave mistake…_

He would wake up in a cold sweat, Victoire sleeping peacefully beside him. When he tried to go back to sleep, all he saw was the shabby old man telling Harry about leaving his own wife and unborn child. _Me. He wanted to leave me and my mother._

Victoire’s birthday was just a few weeks after Teddy’s, though she was still two years younger than him. Her birthday was also the anniversary of the day both his parents had died at the Battle of Hogwarts. Teddy and Victoire had left for Morocco the day before her birthday, arriving at their small hotel late in the evening with the desert sun streaming in through the arched windows.

“Look how pretty!” she had squealed, standing on the terrace of their room. He shrugged, unpacking his bag. She had moped back inside, discouraged by his lack of excitement. He couldn’t imagine that she hadn’t noticed how strange and withdrawn he’d been the last few weeks.

For her birthday, they’d explored a local cave filled with ancient cave paintings, and eaten a hearty dinner with their hands, dipping hunks of bread into different spicy lentils, tender pieces of meat, and sauces. Back in their room, Teddy poured glasses of wine as they sat on the terrace, Victoire getting increasingly more tipsy as the sun set into the city.

“Teddy,” she’d whispered, crawling into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. She had kissed his face, his eyelids, his upper lip, his chin and cheeks, her breath hitching with the wine and her sheer excitement. “Let’s do it. Tonight. I want to. I’m ready. Are you ready?”

He’d been taken aback, surprised by her willing wantoness, but he kissed her anyway, his hand tangled in her sweet-smelling hair, his other hand pressed against her lower back. They had, of course, done all the _other_ things. Since they had started seeing one another at Hogwarts, they’d both been proficient at finding dark corners in which to snog. During summers, they’d sneak off to “feed the chickens” at the Burrow but instead would escape for private moments in the sweltering shed where Arthur Weasley kept all his doodads.

When Teddy had become Head Boy, he’d gotten a private room to himself where he and Victoire had spent countless hours pushing the boundaries of their relationship further than ever before. But they’d never done the _actual_ deed--had sex. He had wanted to, of course, but either he or Victoire would get nervous and stop whatever was happening before it actually happened.

The night in Morocco felt different. Victoire felt warm in his arms, her mouth tasting like oranges and chocolate and wine. He carried her to the bed inside, leaving the doors to the terrace open so the moon could peek in. They stood in front of each other, removing their clothing in sync.

Her cheeks were flushed, and when he entered her, she let out a soft gasp.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked. She shook her head, her hands pressed into his lower back, her body trembling.

“No,” she whispered back. “No, keep going.”

He buried his face in her neck when he felt his release, and she held him tightly, cradling him with the utmost gentleness. They’d fallen asleep like that, waking only when the Moroccan sun flooded their room with light.

A sound forced Teddy to open his eyes, to face his current situation, _much_ less pleasant situation. Hannah was circling the chamber.

“You again?” Teddy muttered.

Hannah chuckled. “I always liked your sense of humor.”

“So much that you put it in jail.”

“Being an orphan has broken you, hasn’t it? You think you’re funny.”

“Well, I try not to fly in the face of public opinion.”

She stopped circling him now, her expression inscrutable. Teddy couldn’t believe that he had found her beautiful as recently as yesterday. Her eyes were frenzied, her face etched with a kind of maniacal energy that was simultaneously terrifying and transfixing.

“I was going to use you to make the Call,” she said, “but then I ran into someone who will do much better.”

“Great, invite them. We’ll throw a hell of a kegger.”

“The Call requires a sacrifice. My army needs to smell blood—wolf’s blood--to know that they must return to their master. I was going to spill yours, but I’ve reconsidered.”

“Glad you’ve changed your mind,” Teddy said conversationally. “Who are you planning on murdering now? Another perfectly dashing reporter? A nice ghoul?”

“No,” she hissed, inching closer to him. “Someone even better.”

“Who, then? Don’t let’s keep us all in such agonizing suspense.”

She grabbed his face roughly by the chin and slammed it, hard, into the pillar behind him. He slumped down, seeing stars swim before his eyes.

“You are an insolent child,” Hannah said coldly, striding back. Teddy could feel a trickle of warm blood creep down his neck, but he forced himself to look up as the wall slid back.

There, flanked by two extremely wolf-ish looking men, was Victoire.

* * *

Author's Notes:

1\. I've been watching old Blackadder recently, and so there are a few references from Blackadder here. They are: 

**_“I do not take kindly to insults.”_ **

**_“Funny, with a face like yours, I figured you’d be used to it by now.” -Blackadder_ **

_**“Well, I try not to fly in the face of public opinion.” -Blackadder**  
_

2\. Read and review! Reviews will divulge's Hannah's evil, evil plan! 


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